Secrets and Lies
by Bridlin
Summary: Set after Countdown because maybe Beckett and Castle just needed a little push in the right direction... "Sometimes he does seek the oblivion that can be found in the bottom of a bottle of Scotch. But tonight's not one of those nights because, despite the anguish of seeing her wrapped in the arms of her boyfriend, his irrational heart is telling him that there's still hope."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N I've always thought that "Set Up" and "Countdown" were game changers for Castle and Beckett and maybe a little push would have had them together. So I've decided to give them a nudge.**

**I own nothing of Castle and that's a very good thing because I'd have had Rick and Kate married by Season 2. Mr Marlowe, on the other hand, knows what he's doing.**

Messages at Midnight

A pool of golden light radiates from the desk lamp, accentuating the darkness that shrouds the rest of the loft. Castle leans back in his chair and holds up his glass, absently watching the light catch the swirling amber liquid. A few tendrils of dishevelled hair droop over his forehead and a suggestion of dark stubble shades his face giving him a rakish air. Another night's growth will reveal the smattering of white in his beard and he'll shave off the reminder that he's no longer the twenty-five year old he sometimes thinks he is.

'Richard, are you even listening to me?'

He starts at the sound of his mother's voice, almost dropping the phone that dangles loosely from the fingers of his right hand.

'Of course I am,' he answers, securing his grip on the cell and bringing it back to his ear.

She sighs. 'Don't lie, darling. What you need is a good night's sleep. You must be exhausted. Tell me, how's Detective Beckett?'

'Beckett?' he repeats, snapping back to full consciousness.

'Yes, Beckett. Your partner. The woman you… never mind. How is the poor girl? She _was_ standing beside you when you saved the world.'

'Not quite the world, Mother.'

'Everyone knows that Manhattan and the world are the same thing. How is she?'

'Oh, she's fine. Her motorcycle doctor boyfriend didn't go to Haiti so she's with him,' he says, revealing more than he realises in the sharp snap of the consonants in his description of Dr Josh Davidson.

'I'm sorry, darling. You know, there are a lot of other women in New York. Take Marilyn Jones for instance. She's…'

'I have no intention of taking Marilyn Jones anywhere. Will you stop trying to set me up?' he says, cutting her off in mid-flow.

'I understand. Topic not up for discussion.'

He can imagine the dramatic flourish of her arm that accompanies her words.

'Alexis and I will be home around lunchtime,' she continues, adding, 'Richard, I'm so glad that you're okay.'

If she's trying to hide the tremor in her voice she fails, and he shuts his eyes for a moment as he thinks what his mother and daughter must have gone through while they waited for news.

'Me too. I'm so glad we're all okay. Give Alexis a kiss from me. Love you, Mother.'

'Right back at you, kiddo. See you tomorrow.'

He tosses the phone on to his desk and takes a sip of whisky, savouring the taste. He's not drunk; he's had enough single malt to induce a welcome numbness but he's not going to drink himself into oblivion tonight. Not that he doesn't sometimes do that. Spending so much of his life with Kate Beckett and - except for that once - never feeling her lips on his, never screwing up the courage to tell her that he loves her, knowing that another man shares her bed – yeah, well sometimes he does seek the void that can be found in the bottom of a bottle of Scotch. But tonight's not one of those nights because, despite the anguish of seeing her wrapped in the arms of her boyfriend, his irrational heart is telling him that there's still hope.

His stupid heart is what has kept him turning up at the precinct day after day because it's convinced – he's convinced – that she's not indifferent to him. Sometimes, more than sometimes, her eyes are soft and dewy when they rest on him. She tries to hide it, looking away or dropping her lids, but she's not fast enough. And the teasing that she's tempted him with since they first met is tinged with affection these days. Because whatever else is going on, they're friends. She's the best friend he's ever had and he hopes she might feel that way about him.

He drains his glass and closes his eyes, reliving the highlights of the past few days. Near death experiences should not be highlights but when he gets to hold her in his arms even if they are freezing to death, and when he hugs her tight and she hugs him back just as fiercely because they've saved themselves and the city from nuclear destruction, they are highlights for him. But more than that, thanks to their brush with death he's learnt something really important about his Kate. He knows that she is looking for a relationship with someone who's ready to jump in with her and, in spite of indications to the contrary, he really doesn't believe that the someone is Dr Josh Davidson.

* * *

He's sweet, he really is. He ran her a bubble bath and left her to soak while he ordered in dinner. When they finished eating, he lifted her legs up on to the couch, tucked a cushion behind her head and topped up her wine glass while he cleared up the kitchen. Now he's sitting in the chair across from her, his long elegant legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, telling her something about a new study that he's thinking he might get involved in as he's not going to Haiti. Not going because of her and that has to mean something.

He smiles and she's struck again by how very handsome he is and how he's the ultimate dream boyfriend. A handsome, intelligent, successful, caring doctor; Josh Davidson is so perfect he could be a character in one of Castle's books. He's tall too, even taller than Castle. He saves lives everyday, though however many operations he does he can never save as many people as Castle saved today when he pulled the wires out of that dirty bomb. He makes her laugh. Not as much as Castle but then nobody she knows is as quick witted as the writer. They still have fun together. His job always comes first and she's okay with that because he understands when she has to rush off to a murder scene in the middle of the night. When he's busy she doesn't need to feel guilty about how much time she devotes to her work and she can grab a drink or burger with Castle on the way home.

'Kate? What is it?'

'Huh?'

'You were smiling.'

'I was? Right. It must have been because…'

'I was talking about undetected congenital heart defects?'

She laughs. 'Maybe not. I was just thinking it's been a helluva couple of days.'

'And that made you smile? You nearly died at least twice. Most of New York nearly died and you're smiling?'

'But we didn't. We're still here and that's worth smiling about.'

'Cop humour! You guys laugh at the weirdest things.'

He shakes his head but Kate's not letting him get away with that. She swings her feet to the floor and sits up to face him, forearms resting on her thighs.

'Oh no, you don't get to call out cops on humour, Dr Davidson. I've heard you and your hospital buddies. If anything, you are worse than us.'

'Yeah. Okay. Dark humour helps. Come on, we should get some sleep.'

He reaches out to take her hand and she lets him pull her to her feet but she can't help the tinge of disappointment that their promising exchange ended so quickly. She was looking forward to some banter, the thrust and parry, the thrill of scoring points off each other, the excitement that she gets when she and Castle bounce ideas off each other. She allows herself to be tugged to the bedroom. She is physically and mentally exhausted but she's not ready to sleep. She needs to celebrate life so she twists her hand in Josh's and tickles his palm with her fingers. The dark look he casts over his shoulder tells her that he's got the message and she grins, making sure that he can see the tip of her tongue between her teeth.

* * *

Kate takes her time in the bathroom, enjoying her first chance of some alone time since Josh met her in the precinct. This case has been an amazing ride, starting with the fear that they'd been contaminated with radiation and culminating in Castle's stupid bravery that saved them all. She catches her reflection in the mirror as she brushes her teeth and shakes her head at her foolish grin. It's got to be reaction to yet another close call for her and her partner. She wonders how he's doing and her smile fades as she thinks that Martha and Alexis are in the Hamptons leaving him home alone. Of course, he might have found someone to help him decompress and forget the sadness that had abruptly descended on him when he'd left the precinct. Maybe one of the hordes of women who are always ready to fall at his feet is doing the honours. The image that her brain conjures up of a big-breasted, leggy blonde straddling him causes her to bite down on her toothbrush and catch her tongue between her teeth.

'Aghh!' she exclaims, dropping the brush and collecting water in her cupped hand to rinse her mouth.

She watches as a ribbon of bright red colours the watery froth that eddies towards the plug.

'Kate, you okay?'

'Ah…, yeah. I'm just… be there in a minute.'

She'd forgotten that Josh is waiting and she covers her eyes with her palm. He'll be expecting more than just a goodnight kiss because she'd made it clear that she was in the mood for more. And she is, just not necessarily what he has to offer. It's not that he's not good in bed but sometimes she feels like she's his science project as he carefully ensures that she's satisfied in his earnest and thorough manner. After her brief interlude alone, the idea of earnest just isn't doing it for her. The reminder of her own mortality has left her wanting passion and fun and the thought of Josh's sincere and, well, humourless approach to sex has dampened her desire. She can't imagine that Castle's buxom blonde is complaining about the lack of fun.

She shuts off the faucet and dries her face, stomping back to the bedroom, suddenly in an inexplicably bad mood. He's lying on his side under the covers, watching her. All the lights are off except her bedside lamp that he's left on so that she can see her way to bed. It's caring and sensible and… just a little dull. If there were candles flickering or Coltrane playing she might feel differently and she knows that it would only be fair to him to go through the motions, particularly when she's the one who initiated things. But the thought makes her weary and she feels bad about it because she's not a tease. Well, she teases Castle all the time but that's fair because he does the same to her. But Josh takes life more seriously.

'I need a glass of water,' she says, turning away.

'I'll get it,' he says, throwing off the covers.

'No!' she snaps, 'I'll do it.'

She trails through the dark to the kitchen, instinctively avoiding all obstacles, and pours herself some water. Her cell phone is on the counter and she checks for messages, disappointed there are none. She impulsively types out a short message, her finger hovering above the send button. The sound of Josh's footfall prompts her to press it and she squints in the unexpected brightness as he switches on the wall lights.

'Got a message?' he asks.

'No, just sending one.'

'Who to?' he asks, stretching his arms above his head, showing off his taut abs and impressive manhood to advantage.

'My dad,' she replies without hesitation.

He nods, accepting her answer and she feels a pang of guilt at her ability to lie so glibly.

'Coming to bed now?'

He quirks an eyebrow and rubs himself suggestively and it should be sexy but it isn't. She wonders what's wrong with her. A gorgeous man, who she really likes and who has told her more than once that he loves her, is offering her just what she asked for and she can't even pretend to be interested. Her phone pings and she glances down, opening the message as soon as she sees the sender's name.

'Your dad?'

'Er… yeah.'

She reads the text, biting her lip to force back a smile before she looks up at him.

'Look, Josh, I'm really tired. I know that I… but I guess it's reaction to everything that has happened. I just want to sleep.'

'That's fine. I'm tired too,' he says, understanding as ever and holds his hand out, dropping it abruptly at her next word.

'Alone.'

He looks shocked and hurt and she can't blame him. He should have been in Haiti now and she's the reason he isn't, but instead of gratefully curling up with him in bed she's chucking him out. She should feel ashamed but all she wants is for him to go. For a moment he looks like he's going to argue but then he grins sympathetically.

'It's okay, Kate. I understand.'

She thinks, 'h_ow can you when I don't understand myself?'_

She perches on a stool and stays in the kitchen as he dresses, re-reading the message on her phone twice. She types a reply, deletes it then types it out again. As Josh comes back another text arrives and he glances at the phone as he leans in to kiss her goodbye, his eyes narrowing when she locks the screen and it fades to black. She feels his breath on her lips and turns her head at the last moment to offer him her cheek. His soft lips lightly brush her cheek and he straightens, opening his mouth to speak. She braces herself for a confrontation but it doesn't come.

'Goodnight, Kate,' he says, leaving without a backward glance.

As soon as the door closes she jumps to her feet, removing her robe on her way to the bedroom in her rush to get dressed.

**So, what do you think? B x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey!**

Castle digs his fingers into the side of his neck and gingerly rolls his head in an effort to ease the crick that has him grimacing with pain. He blinks half a dozen times before succeeding in fully opening his eyes. An orange brown splatter mars the cream rug under his feet and he reaches down to pick up the tumbler. His grip on the glass must have relaxed as he dropped off to sleep and he guesses that he woke when it hit the ground, but even mostly asleep and not completely sober, his mystery writer's brain tells him that the story doesn't add up. If he'd only just dozed off, his neck wouldn't ache and his back wouldn't creak so he must have been sleeping for a while.

He stretches, shrugging to work the stiffness out of his shoulders before slowly unwinding from the chair. His phone beeps, alerting him to a new text and he fills in the pieces. It's got to be the repeat signal and the first one must have roused him. He sends a silent thank you to the sender for saving him from an uncomfortable night and agonizing morning, but the text can wait because right now his bed is calling. He's already through the doorway to his bedroom when he spins around. He should check in case it's Alexis or his mother.

Kate Beckett! He doesn't focus on the preview, just the name. A body drop, he thinks, and he curses NYPD. She shouldn't be on duty again already after the punishing pace and emotional trauma of the last few days. He hesitates to open the text. He's not sure that he can bear to see her knowing that she's warm from Dr Motorcycle Boy's bed. His instinct for self-preservation tells him to leave it until the morning but he knows that he hasn't the will power to do that. Ignore Beckett? Impossible!

_Hey. Helluva day! You found a friend to decompress with?_

He slumps onto the edge of his desk, toppling a pile of research material. Papers scatter across the work space and a few flutter to the floor but he's oblivious, his eyes riveted to the screen as he tries to second-guess what's going on in Kate's head.

His mind goes from blank to flooded with theories in twenty seconds. She's worried he's going to disclose confidential information. She thinks he's going to tweet about the bomb. No, she knows he's not a complete jackass. There's another crisis and she's checking he's awake so they can save the world together again. Nah, she'd just call; she never worries about disturbing his sleep. She's had a fight with Josh and she needs a friend. In your dreams, buddy! He's her friend but not the "I've got boyfriend troubles" friend. That would be Lanie, though she had started to open up to him while they were in radiation isolation. Perhaps she's just concerned about him. The corners of his mouth curl up at the thought of Beckett worrying about him and he starts typing.

_Hey yourself. Helluva day is right. Have stunning 30 year-old decompression buddy. Goes by the name of Glenmorangie._

He reads his words and is content. Not needy or insecure, nothing to hint that he felt like he'd been punched in the gut when Josh turned up just as he was about to… about to what? Ask her out? She's got a boyfriend, you idiot, he reminds himself. He rereads the text, impulsively tagging on _How about you? _and presses send. He instantly regrets the last sentence.

What's she going to say? Josh is debriefing me! Does he want to read that and have to imagine what they're doing? He drops the phone and strides back to his bedroom to get undressed, irritated with her because he's gone from ready to sleep soundly for ten hours to the prospect of yet another night lying awake with images of Kate Beckett with her boyfriend making him miserable, interspersed with dreams of her in _his _arms in _his_ bed upsetting him even more because they are just dreams. He's down to his boxers when he hears the ping and runs back to grab the phone.

_Could do with a bit of decompression myself. Remy's still open. Join me?_

She's kidding, right? She's bothering to ask? He replies before she can change her mind.

_Yes._

He paces between the window and the door, waiting for her to reply. Josh Davidson is noticeable by his absence. What does that mean? He tries to quell the welling hope that feels like a physical force inside him. The cell phone in his hand vibrates before it beeps.

_See you there in 20._

He grabs his jacket and reaches the front door before he remembers he's almost naked.

'Crap!'

* * *

There are plenty of cabs on the street but they are all occupied. At half past midnight New York isn't even beginning to think about sleep and Kate tightens the belt on her coat as she waits on the street corner. The bone-chilling cold is the least of her worries. What is she even doing here? Chucking out her boyfriend who has just withdrawn from an important humanitarian project for her is bad enough, but what possessed her to contact Castle at this time of night? She starts walking up and down, keeping the blood flowing to her extremities, all the while watching the road for a free taxi.

A couple walk past, so completely absorbed in each other they seem unaware of everyone and everything else. She follows their progress for a moment, wondering what that feels like. Could she ever have that with Josh? Does she even want it? More life-threatening experiences than most people have in a lifetime condensed into a couple of days have forced her to be honest with herself and she knows without a doubt that she's not in love with Josh. She feels affection for him and she's concerned for his well-being but that doesn't change the fact that they live parallel lives that they allow to overlap and intersect when it suits them. There is no all-consuming passion and never will be.

So, that sort of explains why she turned him out, but what's with texting Castle? She admits to herself that the catalyst was supplied by her own imagination. She couldn't bear the thought that he might have found a different kind of 30 year-old decompression buddy. There's a name for that. It's called jealousy.

A cab pulls up right in front of her and the guy who lives on the third floor of her block lurches out. He leers at her and she wrinkles her nose in distaste, slipping past him to take his place on the back seat. She tells the driver where she wants to go and he starts talking about the sudden drop in temperature this late in winter and she lets him continue, relieved to be spared more time for introspection.

* * *

Remy's is the haunt of night dwellers – cops, health-care workers, taxi drivers, insomniacs – and at half past midnight, all the booths are taken. Kate looks around for other options and spots Thompson and Vargas from vice. They exchange nods and Kate smiles and shakes her head when Vargas gestures for her to join them. Maybe Remy's wasn't the best choice. Maybe this whole thing was a very bad idea. She spots a table at the back of the diner and winds her way through the chairs to reach it. She won't be able to see him until he's through the door but the tables near the steamed up windows are too public for what she has in mind - not that she knows what that is.

The open kitchen is just a few feet away and on this chilly night this is the warmest place in the restaurant. After the near death inducing cold they so recently experienced, she's very happy with warm. She unwinds her scarf and pulls off her gloves, unbuttoning her coat as she sits. She's just slipping it off her shoulders when she spots him barrelling through the doorway. He is unshaven and a little dishevelled and looks adorably flummoxed as he pivots around to try to spot her. When he sees her his face lights up and she grins back, ignoring the swell of pleasure that courses through her. He wends his way through the tables and slips into the seat opposite her.

'Hey, Castle,' she says, hoping he doesn't hear the constraint in her voice.

'Hey,' he replies and a yawning silence descends.

She suggested this and she should be talking but Castle does what he does so well; fills the space with noise.

'I hope you weren't waiting long. I had to get dressed…'

'I woke you? I'm sorry,' she interrupts.

He shakes his head. 'Don't be. I'd fallen asleep in the chair. If it wasn't for you I'd have been moving like C3PO for days.'

He does an extreme impersonation of the Star Wars' droid's abrupt arm and stiff necked moves that makes her laugh, instantly alleviating some of the tension.

'I was almost out the front door before I remembered I was only wearing my boxers.'

He grins and she rolls her eyes but she smiles widely at the thought that he was so excited he nearly forgot his clothes. Or maybe he was simply drunk. She scrutinises him for signs of inebriation as he lifts his hand to attract the busy waitress's attention but she decides he looks fine. Better than fine.

'Have you ordered?'

'Not yet. I got here just before you.'

'Did you have to get dressed too?' he asks, visibly cringing at his own question, and she laughs again.

'Actually, yes.'

He looks up, suddenly serious. She'd edged her eyes with liner and run a smear of gloss over her lips but otherwise her face is clean of makeup. Her hair is scraped back into a pony-tail and she knows that she looks a mess but he's looking at her as if she's taken his breath away. It's exciting and panic inducing all at the same time. The arrival of the waitress breaks the spell.

'Hi, you two. Haven't seen you for a while? What can I getcha?'

'Er… Hi... Hello, Margie. Coffee?' he asks Kate.

'Too late. Hot chocolate please.'

'Perfect. With marshmallows?' His eyes light up at the prospect and she nods her agreement.

'Skinny?' She shakes her head and he raises his brows in surprise.

'Full fat. I'm feeling reckless,' she offers and he catches his breath, holding her gaze for a moment too long before breaking contact to look at Margie.

The waitress is shamelessly following their exchange, her lively brown eyes flitting from one to the other. They've been coming in here together for around two years and she's watched their progress. In the early days he followed the detective round like a hyperactive puppy and she either looked like she was about to wring his neck or she mocked him mercilessly. She saw the trust and affection grow until they became close friends and now it looks like they may be ready to take the next step and she's eager to witness it.

'Two please, Margie,' he says.

'Two what?'

'Hot chocolate, full fat, marshmallows, and cream?'

He looks questioningly at Kate and she nods agreement to the cream and he looks like his team has just won the Super Bowl.

'Reckless ha?' Margie says, smirking at them, and Kate feels heat stain her cheeks as the waitress twists away with a chuckle.

'Hot. Um… hot in here,' stammers Castle, and Kate notices he's flushed too.

'Well, you have still got your coat on.'

She quirks an eyebrow at him and that seems to fluster him even more.

'I… um… I think I'll just…'

He wriggles out of the sleeves then half stands so he can pull out the coat and drape it over one of the two empty chairs. He sits down and she resists the urge to stroke the soft grey cashmere and silence descends again until they both speak at once.

'So…'.

'You first,' he says quickly and she frowns at him for getting in first.

'No, really, I wasn't going to say anything in particular…'

She fiddles with a loose thread on her woollen glove, her hand stilling when he reaches out to play with the purple fingers. Their hands are almost but not quite touching. It's her call and she knows it. You can't just call your… what? Co-worker, friend, partner, prospective… something? You can't just text at midnight and suggest you meet and then not speak. He comes to her rescue again and she glances up from her contemplation of her glove to throw him a grateful look that fades as she listens to what he has to say.

'I spent my evening with a bottle of whisky and a Miles Davis CD. How about you?'

For some reason she can't quite fathom, she doesn't want to tell him about her cosy evening with Josh but there's no reason to be here if she's not going to be honest, so she takes a deep breath.

'I had a hot bath and then Josh and I had a take-out.'

He nods. 'And then?'

Part of her wants to say that he has no right to ask that but if that's true she should have stayed at home with her boyfriend.

'Then he left.'

'Because?'

'Because I asked him to.'

'Right.'

He opens his mouth and she expects him to ask why but he closes it again and it dawns on her that he's as nervous as she is. If she doesn't know what she's doing, he must be even more confused. The hot chocolate arrives and she's relieved that Margie is distracted by another customer asking for his check and she takes a minute to think, slowly stirring in the thick cream and dropping in a couple of marshmallows.

'We nearly died together three times in two days, Castle,' she starts.

Her voice is low and he sits forward with his muscular forearms resting on the table. He's still toying with her glove and she focuses on his thick fingers stroking the woollen ones.

'It makes you think. It made me think,' she looks up to find his steady gaze on her face. 'I… We don't know how much time we've got. We never know that. I've seen that every day since I started to work homicide. I've thought about it every day since my mom was murdered. People leave home in the morning and never go back again. We always imagine there's a tomorrow but sometimes there isn't.'

She sits back and takes a sip of chocolate, licking cream off her lips. He mirrors her actions but he hasn't stirred his so he's left with a white moustache and she smiles at him affectionately.

'What?'

She runs her finger along her lip, but doesn't seem to get it so she reaches out and swipes at his mouth, licking the cream off her finger. She hadn't meant it to be anything more but his darkened eyes are on her mouth. Her own lips part and she reaches forward to do it again, this time offering him her finger. He lifts his eyes to hers and licks the cream off before she pulls away sharply, as if his tongue had scalded her. She pushes her hands into her hair and a few curls escape. Castle reaches a hand up towards her cheek and then drops it again and she doesn't know to be happy or sad, but actually she's cross. She's taken steps, baby steps perhaps, but steps. Now it's his turn.

'What were you going to say?'

'When?'

'Just before you left the precinct. You said you were thinking. What? What were you thinking?'

His face clouds with the same sadness she saw when he turned away from her and she wants to reach out and tell him it'll be okay but she doesn't.

'That's not fair, Kate,' he says quietly.

'What do you mean?'

'You and Josh… Why did you ask him to leave?'

'Castle,' she sighs.

'You asked me to meet you. To decompress. You need to tell me what's going on.'

'Right. You're right. Have you finished? Can we walk?'

**A/N Thank you for all the wonderful reviews and follows. IT's great to know that you're enjoying this. I am, as always, feeling the pressure to meet your expectations so please keep giving me feed back. Tell me what you hate and what you like. I have a vision for where I'm taking Rick and Kate but I'd love to know what you'd like to see too. Fresh ideas are always good. Sorry to leave it there. I promise I'll update soon.** x


	3. Chapter 3

**Raw**

Margie pockets Castle's generous tip and wipes the table with painstaking care, taking note of how the writer hurries round the table to hold Kate's coat for her and then unnecessarily smoothes the shoulders with a light but tender touch. She suppresses a grin; the tentative quality of their interaction signals that they are still liable to be spooked but she can't resist a gentle dig.

'It's cold enough to freeze dragon's breath tonight. Sort of night you might need to find someone friendly to snuggle with.'

'We're experts in huddling for warmth,' Castle says, earning an elbow in the ribs that is strong enough to force him to bite his lip to hold back an exclamation of pain.

'You have a very violent streak, Beckett,' he whispers, as they make their way towards the door.

'Well, you certainly know how to bring it out.'

'I just meant that we had to cuddle…'

He pauses as she turns to glare at him.

'I er… I mean huddle. We huddled. So we wouldn't die.'

'You and I know that but she doesn't and nor do Vargas and Thompson.'

'Vargas from vice? The sleaze ball who's always making inappropriate remarks to you?'

'Sound like anyone else we know?' Kate's voice is laced with irony.

'Oh, you mean _? I am _not_ a sleaze ball. Where is Vargas? I didn't see him.'

He spins around scanning the room only to topple backwards as Kate grabs the cuff of the sleeve and drags him onto the street.

Margie tries to keep an eye on them but is frustrated in her efforts by the condensation clouding the window that makes it impossible to see anything clearly on the dark street from the bright diner. She wonders what has triggered this step up in their relationship. It's been a long time coming but she's happy they're on course at last. The change is subtle and she's glad to see that the two other cops who are eating burgers at the bar don't seem to have noticed. They don't need insensitive comments from those dolts but she's looking forward to doing a bit of friendly ribbing herself.

* * *

It's a raw February cold that stings cheeks and makes eyes water. Castle digs into his pockets for his gloves and comes up with nothing. He must have forgotten them in his haste but it could be worse; at least he's wearing trousers. Kate is better prepared, pulling on a pink and purple striped beanie that makes her look like a grad student instead of the powerful and capable woman that she is. He sinks his hands as far as they'll go into his pockets achieving the dual purpose of stopping his fingers from freezing and preventing him from reaching out to pull her to him to keep her warm or something else. That would be disastrous. At least he thinks it would because, despite her unexpected midnight summons, he has no idea where they stand at this moment.

The traffic is thinning and the few other people on the sidewalk are hunched against the cold. Kate turns south and Castle follows, catching up with a couple of long strides and falling into step beside her, careful to keep at least a foot between them. He steals a look at her face. She's focused on the route ahead and sets a rapid pace for an icy night as she's chews her lip with so much savagery that he's worried she'll draw blood. He automatically reaches out to capture her elbow.

'Kate? What is it?'

Her tempo falters and her eyes drop to where he's holding her and he half expects her to pull away but instead she sways from her direct path so that the gap between them is just a couple of inches before turning her attention back to the sidewalk in front of them and resuming her march. It's a few minutes before she breaks the silence.

'Two days ago we didn't know if we were going to die of radiation poisoning.'

'I don't know about you but I'm really glad we didn't.'

'When we were in isolation together,' she continues as if he hadn't even spoken, 'I was really scared. It would be a horrible way to die.'

'But we're okay, Kate. They checked us out,' he says, tightening his grip on her arm.

'I thought Josh was gone again, off saving the world, and I was angry at him for leaving me.'

He looks away wondering what's coming. Maybe her doctor has told her he's ready to take the plunge and dive in with her and she's about to break the news to him. Why she's chosen to do so in the middle of the night he can't imagine. He drops her elbow and pushes his hand back into his pocket, widening the distance between them. His eyes are on the sidewalk so he doesn't see her head twist towards him or the uncertainty in her eyes.

'Then you and I ended up in a freezer together and I realised something.'

He hears the hesitation in her voice and looks back at her, curiosity overcoming the dread that has started to tighten in his chest.

'What?'

'I'm getting to that, Castle. Don't rush me, okay?'

'You do understand that if you don't get to the point soon we'll have survived one icy death just to succumb to another that is completely avoidable,' he says, his teeth beginning to chatter.

'Castle!'

'Sorry. Please go ahead.'

'What I'm trying to tell you is that while I didn't want to die, I was… comforted… even content that if I was, you and I were together.'

He stops in his tracks and stares at her, not quite sure what she's trying to tell him. The dread disappears to be replaced by a heady feeling of hope and only then does he notice she's not slowed down and he has to run a few steps to catch up. Whatever this means, he's sure she's not about to tell him she's committed to a lifetime with Dr Motorcycle Boy. After all, she's feeling reckless. And then there was the cream and finger thing. Just the thought makes him warm and he forgets for a moment just how cold he is.

'So…?' He encourages, falling into step beside her again.

'So, when I opened my eyes and there was Josh, I was confused. I was happy that he hadn't gone but…'

She stops abruptly and swivels to face him.

'God, Castle, are you going to make me say it?'

'As I don't know what _it_ is, you're going to have to, Beckett.'

She starts walking again but much more slowly and he slides towards her so that their upper arms brush against each other with almost every footstep. She doesn't pull away.

'He was looking down at me but all I could think about was you. I needed to know you were all right.'

He catches her arm and pulls her back to look at him.

'What does that mean, Kate?'

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. 'I don't know. I thought I was worried about my partner. My friend.'

He sighs in disappointment and takes his turn to lead their route march through East Village. Frost is beginning to form on the windscreens of parked cars and he's aware of the biting cold that feels like it's seeping into his bones.

'Castle? Can you… can you tell me what you're thinking? Please.'

'Kate, you're the one who dragged me into the middle of a dark Siberian winter to do what? Tell me you were worried about me because I'm your partner? I don't know what to say because I don't know what the hell is going on.'

He pauses, his attention caught by something.

'You know want to know what I'm thinking?' He takes her shoulder and turns her to look at a Chevy. 'I'm thinking that that creeping crystalline web that's edging its way across that windscreen is like us. What started out as clear and ordinary has grown slowly into a beautiful interwoven pattern, but the longer it goes on the more obscure it gets until it becomes a thick impenetrable layer that you can't see through at all.'

He huffs in exasperation and turns to her in irritation but she's looking up at him with the glow of wonder in her gorgeous hazel eyes and, despite the cold and his impatience with her, he's completely mesmerized.

'Beautiful,' she sighs.

'Yeah, well frost is beautiful.'

She shakes her head.

'Your words. Your words are beautiful.'

And then she disarms him completely by slipping her hand through the crook of his arm and settling her fingers on his forearm before nudging him forward to resume their night-time tour.

'Kate, what are we doing?' he pleads, covering her hand with his as they walk.

'Wow, your hand's so cold I can feel it through my glove.'

She's avoiding again but he lets her get away with it because she's almost snuggling against his arm. If he pressures her she might withdraw from him again and, as frustrated as he is with this dance, he'd rather have this than nothing.

'I think I might have mentioned the cold.'

'What are you wearing under that coat?'

'Um, boxers, pants and a sweater.'

'No undershirt?' she demands.

He shakes his head. 'And no socks.'

'Do you want to die of cold?'

'I didn't know you'd enjoyed our glacial adventure so much you'd want to relive it.'

'We need to get somewhere warm.'

'You don't say? I wonder why I didn't think of that.'

His sarcasm is lost on her as she stops to take stock of where their meandering ramble has taken them.

'Ah! We're just round the corner from where the male stripper was murdered. Remember?'

'How could I forget? You, surrounded by steroid fuelled naked men...'

'...and you coming to my rescue with your trusty fire extinguisher.' She rolls her eyes.

'Hey, don't mock my equipment.'

'I'll do my best.'

She flashes him a saucy look through her lashes and his breath catches.

'Now, where can we warm up round here?'

'The loft. It's about three blocks that way.'

He points to the left, heartened by the thought of his well-heated apartment and a warm drink within striking distance. Snuggling with Kate Beckett under a blanket doesn't sound too bad either.

'No.' She shakes her head resolutely.

'What do you mean no? We're nearly there, Kate. I have a state of the art heating system and the best coffee in town,' he says, his voice rising in disbelief.

She shakes her head so he suggests the obvious alternative.

'Your place then. We can grab a cab,' he says, swivelling his head in search of a taxi.

'No.'

'Why?'

'I can't be alone with you.'

'What are you even talking about? We're alone now.'

'In public.'

'This is ridiculous.'

'I have a boyfriend.'

'You think I don't know that when you're shoving him in my face all the time?' he snaps, wondering if they've made any progress at all.

He feels her stiffen and gives her hand a squeeze.

'Kate, we've been alone plenty of times since you've been with him. Your place, my place, freezers.'

'I can't be alone with you now.'

'What's changed?'

He stops and untangles their arms so he can take a firm grip on her shoulders. He holds her until she raises her eyes to meet his.

'I'm scared of what might happen.'

She bottom lip trembles and she bites it, but she keeps eye contact. He notices her nervous swallow and slackens his hold.

'You don't trust me.'

It's not a question and he doesn't try to hide the hurt in his voice.

'I do,' she asserts.

'Then why, Kate?'

'I don't trust me, Rick.'

**A/N Thank you for the reviews, follows, pms and suggestions. I can't tell you how great it is to hear from you and to know that you like this story. I haven't had time to reply to everyone individually. The real world keeps getting in the way. Please keep talking to me and I'll keep writing. (That's not an ultimatum - reviews or not I'll keep writing but reviews are the best motivation).**


	4. Chapter 4

**Secrets**

'_You don't trust me.' _

_It's not a question. He doesn't try to hide the hurt in his voice._

'_I do,' she asserts._

'_Then why, Kate?'_

'_I don't trust me, Rick.'_

* * *

He's staring at her and she tries to read his face. Disbelief?

His eyes are wide and unfocused. Shock?

His jaw slackens and she feels the grip on her arms relax, not so much that he lets go but loose enough that if she steps away his hands are going to fall to his sides. Horror?

Richard Castle is dumfounded. She's taken his words. She cannot count the number of times that she's wanted him to just shut up and now, when she needs him to speak, he's staring at her like she's just beamed down from another planet. For more than two years he has trailed around behind her like a stray dog, exasperating her, nipping at her heels, getting under her feet. He's turned up in the wrong place at the wrong time, tugged at her coat and tried to get her to play. But the wrong place and wrong time has often proved to be just when she's needed him most. He's been loyal and protective and has grown to be the first person she thinks of when she needs a friend. The mischievous glint in his eyes has never changed but the blatant lustful leer has morphed into wistful glances and looks as warm as a caress that she's interpreted as something more than just friendly affection. But now her stomach is churning and despite the arctic air, she feels heat building in her chest and flooding her face. Because maybe she's got it wrong and she's just ruined the best friendship she's ever had.

She takes a step back but his hands don't drop like she expects. They tighten. His wide blue eyes focus on her, and she can see wonder in their depths and something else that causes her breath to hitch. He closes the gap that she'd opened between them and then closes it more so that his face is just inches from hers, and then he tugs her even closer until the only thing separating them is the width of their clothes. His lips are full and moist and parting and she closes her eyes in anticipation because the memory of his mouth on hers has never been far from the surface of her mind. A breath of expectation makes her whole body quiver.

A shoulder barges hers on the wide sidewalk. The combination of the cold and the late hour has forced most people off the street, leaving the stragglers to either cover the ground as quickly as possible or to weave unsteadily in what may, if they're lucky, be the right direction. The shoulder might belong to one or the other but the result is the same. The spell is broken.

Kate's eyes snap open and she snatches her hands away from his waist, unclear how they even got there. His lips are so close to hers she can almost taste them and it takes all her willpower to jerk her head back and lever some distance between them with both hands on his chest.

'Kate?' he breathes.

'We can't.'

'But…'

'Josh.'

'Josh!' he repeats, letting her go and spinning on his heel.

'Castle?'

Her voice is little more than a tentative whisper and she reaches out to touch his back but he steps away, one arm reaching up into the air. A yellow cab, its light shining like a beacon in the dark street, pulls over to the kerb and he reaches behind him, his hand blindly searching the air until it finds her wrist.

'Four Seasons,' he says, unceremoniously hustling her into the back seat and sliding in beside her.

'Castle, I am not going to a hotel with you!' She scoots over to put as much distance between them as is possible in a New York taxi.

The driver eyes them suspiciously through the rear view mirror as he pulls out on to the quiet street.

'It's okay…'

'Okay? How is it okay? Not your place, not my place, and you decide that a hotel room is okay?'

He slides towards her across the worn brown leather seat. 'It's fine…'

'No! You get back. Stay over your side,' she barks, shrinking into the corner and the driver twists his head round before turning his attention back to the road.

'Lady, you want me to take you someplace else? A police station maybe?'

'No, it's okay. I can shoot him myself if I have to.'

'Suit yourself, just don't make a mess in my cab.'

She throws a warning glance at Castle that has him edging back to the far side of the seat and she has to suppress a smile.

'We cannot go to a hotel, Rick,' she hisses.

'Kate, we need to warm up…'

'Not that warm.'

'And the lobby at the Four Seasons is the perfect place to do it.'

'Lobby?'

'Yes, the lobby. It's comfortable, well heated and public enough to ensure that you won't give in to your urge to jump me.'

This time there's no gradual build up. The blood rushes straight to her cheeks and she knows that she's bright crimson. He leans back into the corner, arms crossed and legs outstretched, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. He looks relaxed and happy and she sighs in irritation because he's enjoying this.

'You think they will just let us sit in the lobby of a five star hotel in the middle of the night?'

'I do.'

'Why? Because you're Richard Castle?'

He shrugs, his eyes twinkling.

'You're not even wearing socks,' she declares, as if it's the deal breaker and he laughs.

'I don't think there's a dress code.'

'For bestselling authors?'

'For hotel lobbies.' He holds his hand up when she opens her mouth to argue. 'I may not be wearing socks but my shoes were handmade in London by Lobb's. They'll let us stay.'

He nods confidently and she's conflicted. She hopes that they'll be turned away because he's being infuriatingly smug, but they do need to talk and there are few places open at this time of night that fit the bill. She doesn't want to be in some seedy late night bar or in a brightly lit diner. His idea is a good one but she's not going to admit that and she angles her body into the window and towards the Manhattan night.

There's something about the crisp cold that cleanses the city. Perhaps it's the absence of the mass of humanity that usually inhabits these streets, or maybe it's the rare sight of the glimmer of a star that's determined enough to shine through the light pollution. Castle is unusually silent and she doesn't need to turn around to know that he hasn't taken her eyes off her. She's not tempted to meet his gaze. Her foolhardy admission has left her a nervous wreck and she's exasperated with him because he doesn't understand that this isn't simple. The road ahead is littered with obstacles and the most pressing is six foot three and looks great in scrubs.

She steals a sideways glance at her companion and it's enough to tell her that he may be grinning like the Cheshire cat but he's also hunched against the cold.

'Can you turn up the heat?' she asks the driver because she's getting worried that after their freezer experience he may suffer serious consequences if he gets so cold again so soon.

'You think I wanna be this cold? Not working.'

'We could always huddle for warmth,' Castle murmurs in a voice as seductive as liquid chocolate and, even though she's irritated as hell with him, she wants to just slide over and fold into his arms.

It's ironic that a day ago they could seek that comfort without it meaning more than sharing body heat. No, it meant more but they could pretend it didn't. But now there could be no pretence. Their world has changed and so she ignores him, choosing to watch red tail lights on Park Avenue. Traffic is light and they reach East 57th Street in record time and Kate wishes that she could get around Midtown as quickly when she's rushing to a crime scene or chasing down a suspect. As the taxi slows the driver seeks her out in his rear view mirror.

'You sure you're all right, ma'am?' he asks.

'I'm fine. Thank you.'

He turns to Castle who's digging in his inside pocket for his wallet.

'You should look after your lady,' he advises.

'I assure you, I have every intention of doing so,' he says, handing over a ten-dollar bill.

* * *

Golden wood lines the walls and the marble on the floor reaches to the ceiling in classical columns. They climb the stairs side by side and Castle resists the urge to take her hand, forcing himself to maintain enough distance to ensure that she doesn't give in to the panic that he knows she's been fighting all night. He wants to take her in his arms and tell her that he's overwhelmed because she can't trust herself near him and that he loves her more than Romeo loved Juliet or Heathcliff loved Cathy, but he senses that might be a little much at this stage in their fledging relationship. Instead, he contents himself with guiding her through the soaring foyer. There are a few people dotted around in armchairs but he's relieved to see that nobody is sitting in the little group of chairs near the open fire. The two empty glasses on the table tell him that a couple have just left and he thinks their timing is a blessing from the gods. Not only is it this most romantic spot in the hotel, he really needs to thaw out. He glances down to try to judge her reaction and is delighted to see the first uninhibited smile he's seen since the previous afternoon in the precinct

'Perfect,' she murmurs, peeling off her hat and gloves.

Confusion, fear and hope had distracted him so much in Remy's, he hardly noticed what she was wearing, but as she unbuttons her camel coat he sees the cream roll neck that he loves and skin tight brown jeans tucked into flat soled ankle boots. She's managed to combine sexy and practical, but it helps that she'd look fantastic in a rubbish bag. She makes to sit in one of the armchairs but hesitates and drops her coat there instead, choosing to curl into one end of a cream couch and he takes that as a small victory. He sits at the other end, not yet prepared to relinquish his own coat, and pivots his upper body towards her, his elbow on the back of the seat and his chin supported on his hand. He has the perfect view but is far enough away not to spook her. The tip of her nose and her cheeks are pink with cold and she looks adorable in the flickering firelight as she snuggles into the cushions. A waiter appears and discreetly clears the table, placing a drinks menu near the candle. Castle detains him with a hand.

'I'll take a cognac please, no ice. Kate?'

She lifts her head from her contemplation of the fire to look at him.

'Yeah, me too.'

'Two,' he says and the waiter nods,

The radiant heat is doing its job but the rush of warm blood to his extremities is like a hundred red hot needles in his fingers and toes and he grimaces, opening and closing his fists and wriggling his toes.

'You're freezing, Castle,' she says, bumping over the over stuffed cushions until she can reach his hands. She takes one in each of her own much smaller ones and squeezes tight. 'You need gloves in weather like this.'

He's amazed at how much heat her long thin fingers can transmit and he squeezes back drawing her hazel eyes up to his own. He half expects her to drop his hands and look away but she does neither. She's glowing and whether that's the firelight or his writer's imagination or a magical inner radiance, he's not sure but he knows that he wants her to look at him like that for ever.

'You should take your shoes off.'

'Huh?'

'To warm your feet. You need to take off your shoes.'

'Er, lobby of the Four Seasons?' he says, drawing back his lips to reveal his gums.

She quirks a quizzical eyebrow at him. 'But you're Richard Castle, famous bestselling novelist.'

'True.'

He kicks off his shoes to reveal angry red toes and she draws a breath through her teeth.

'It's okay. These toes have skied in Whistler in February. They'll be fine.'

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get frostbite.'

'Don't worry. Totally worth it.'

Se looks delightfully befuddled and uses the cover of the waiter's return to retreat to her corner. Her fingers play a nervous tune on the side of her glass and he takes pity on her.

'How's the cognac, Rudolph?' he asks, and when she looks at him questioningly he points to his nose.

'Ha! Rudolph? You need to look in the mirror, mister. They could turn off the lights and we'd still be able to read in the blaze of your nose.'

He grins and she smiles back, releasing a long sigh.

'This is a mess, Castle.'

'Doesn't have to be, Kate.'

'It does. I… I have… You… Josh!' she babbles.

'Hmm. So when he left tonight you didn't…' His sentence peters out. You didn't what? Tell him about us? Is there an us? He has too many questions that he's scared to ask.

'I didn't.' She hangs her head. 'I lied to him. I said I was texting my dad and then I told him I was tired and needed to be alone.'

He swirls the glass in his hand, watching the viscous liquid cling to the sides.

'But…' he offers.

'But I just wanted him to leave because I didn't want him in my bed.'

'Because…'

'Because I wanted to be with you. I needed you.'

It's hardly more than a whisper but to him it sounds like she's shouted it from the rooftop.

'Needed…'

'Will you stop with the one word feeds,' she pleads, sipping her cognac.

'Sorry, I… I'm just stunned. In a good way. The best,' he adds, hastily in response to her wide eyes.

'Can we just talk about where we'd be if Josh wasn't on the scene, Kate?'

He thinks he knows but he needs clarification. There are words they need to exchange. No the big ones. Not yet. But they are beyond the point of no return. They can't go back to where they were just a couple of hours ago, so they need to work out where they are now.

'But he is.'

'But if he wasn't?'

She loses herself in the flickering flames again and he waits, watching her profile. Her jaw is working and she runs her fingers through her hair, tangling them in her ponytail. She shakes them lose, and tendrils fall around her face. She pulls off the scrunchy and the shakes the rest of her curls free and the writer in him has to see the metaphor when she turns to him, determination replacing nerves.

'When I'm with him… when I was with him earlier, I kept thinking about you. I tried not to but… I imagined you with another woman and I couldn't bear it. If Josh wasn't on the scene, I would want to be with you. If you'd have me,' she adds, biting her lip.

'If I'd have you? Kate…' He halfway across the couch before her raised hand stops him. 'You must know how much I want you. You have to know that all I want is to be with you. I love you, Kate.'

He hears her sharp intake of breath before he notices the shock in her eyes and he could kick himself. Big words. They're the big words and he didn't mean to say them. Yet.

**A/N This update has taken longer than planned. Sorry. Busy week. I haven't replied to all you kind reviewers so please accept this blanket thank you. And thank you so much for that the favourites and follows. I promise that the next chapter will be posted much more quickly. Christmas cards? Pfft! They can wait.**


	5. Chapter 5

_'If I'd have you? Kate…' He's halfway across the couch before her raised hand stops him. 'You must know how much I want you. You have to know that all I want is to be with you. I love you, Kate.'_

_He hears her sharp intake of breath before he notices the shock in her eyes and he could kick himself. Big words. They're the big words and he didn't mean to say them. Yet._

* * *

**Embers**

Kate feels like her heart is beating too high in her chest. The pulse in her neck is throbbing so violently, she imagines it must be visible from yards away. She knows this feeling. It's panic and fear and her body is telling her to do the only sensible thing. Run. Her breath is shallow and rapid and she's starting to feel dizzy. She's staring at Castle with eyes as wide as Bambi's and she closes them, shutting out the image of his mouth hanging loose and his blue eyes full of horror.

She clenches her fists and tries to slow her breathing, forcing herself to stay still and not respond to the twitching in her muscles that would have her across the grand lobby and out on the street faster than Usain Bolt. What the hell was he thinking? Just when they were getting somewhere, he leaps from Chapter One to page 300, skipping out on all the important bits in the middle. The vital chapters, where they get to know each other and learn to appreciate all the good things and accept the rest. You'd think a best-selling author would know more about building a plot.

As she forces oxygen into her lungs, she regains a little control and feels some of the tension ease from her muscles. She becomes aware of pain in her palms where her nails are digging in and she relaxes her fingers but keeps her eyes firmly shut as she seeks some stability. How could he do this to her out of the blue?

But it's not. Of course it isn't. She's known for a long time that what they have is much more than friendship. They've come a long way from Chapter One. They may not be on page 300 but their story has been building for years. She's startled from her thoughts by the rhythmic shaking of the couch and opens her eyes to see Castle slamming his head against the back of the seat, his eyes squeezed shut and his face wrinkled into a childlike picture of self-blame. Watching him beat himself up, literally and figuratively, calms her. He knows it's too soon and he knows her so well that he probably expects that she'll be gone when he opens his eyes. For some reason that she can't quite fathom, that gives her strength. If she runs, she'll meet not only her own worst expectations but also his, and she realises that she wants to be more than that. She wants to be better and braver. She's not ready to say those words back to him but she wants to be able to accept them.

'Castle, I… Don't…'

'It's okay, Kate. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... I just opened my mouth and it came out.'

'I…'

'Why can't I just keep my mouth shut?'

'Castle…

'Jeez I'm a fool…'

'Rick, shut up!'

He opens his eyes wide, shock at her tone evident on his face.

'Kate…'

'Just be quiet and let me speak. What I was trying to say was, don't you think we should at least have a date or two before we declare… Before we talk about… Let's save that for later, Castle. Okay?'

'For later? You mean…'

'Don't push it.'

'Right.'

He compresses his lips into a tight line but they arch up in the corners and Kate finds that she can't suppress a shy smile. He grins back at her and succeeds in looking idiotic, sitting there barefoot in the Four Seasons in the middle of the night with a dopey grin on his face. Idiotic and adorable.

Unable to stay silent any longer he asks, as eager as a high school sophomore, 'You mean you want to go on a date with me?'

'I… When I'm free. Yes, I would love to go on a date with you.'

She bites her bottom lip and it's not worry or fear, it's anticipation. His eyes are on her mouth and she wants to close the space between them and feel his lips on hers again. It was her need to affirm life that has got them here this evening and she knows without doubt that this is the man for the job. Somehow, however handsome, however charming, however funny, no other man matches up to him.

He stretches his arm out along the back of the sofa until his hand is just a few inches away from her cheek. It would only take a turn of her head and her lips would be on his fingers. She sways forward and licks her lips.

'Good evening, Mr Castle. So nice to see you again.'

They turn in unison to the speaker, a good-looking man in his thirties, wearing a black suit and a name badge that proclaims him to be Daniel Johanson, Lobby Manager. He stands looking down at them benevolently, his hands behind his back, and Kate bites back a giggle at the picture of poorly concealed irritation on Castle's face.

'Dan. Hi.'

Dan shifts his attention to Kate.

'I hope you're comfortable, Madam. Is there anything I can get for you?'

'I'm fine. Thank you.'

He smiles and draws out his hands, revealing a pair spa slippers emblazoned with the Four Seasons' logo and presents them to Castle with a flourish.

'I thought you might find these useful, sir.'

Castle takes the slippers with both hands, and Kate sits back into her corner, both frustrated and relieved by the unexpected interruption. She hadn't anticipated how her impetuous decision to give in to her desire to see him tonight, would instantly change the dynamic between them. They'd got used to keeping a lid on their simmering attraction while it was unacknowledged, but now they were in much more dangerous territory.

'Another cognac, Mr Castle?'

'No, thank you. I think we have everything we need…'

'Could I get a sandwich?' Kate asks, cutting him off, ignoring Castle's raised brows.

'Of course. I'll bring you a menu.'

He takes a step backwards but she stops him, sure at least of what she wants to eat.

'Actually, some buttered toast would be perfect.'

'Certainly.'

'And tea. English tea, with milk.'

He turns to Castle whose surprise has morphed into knowing amusement.

'Er, just tea. Thanks.'

The lobby manager disappears as silently as he arrived and Castle checks his watch. 'It's almost three in the morning.'

Kate shrugs but says nothing.

'Toast at three am?

'I'm hungry.'

'Obviously.'

'Put on your slippers.'

'I will.'

'Fetching,' she says, as he slips his feet into the soft white towelling.

'It's what all the smart New Yorkers are wearing.'

They smile at each other, allowing eyes to linger.

'Are you warmer now?'

'I am.'

'Coat?'

'Oh, yeah.'

He takes off his coat, draping it over the chair next to him. She worries he might take the opportunity to sit closer to her but he stays at his end of the couch.

'What now, Kate?'

'Toast.'

He lowers his chin and stares at her, making it clear that that wasn't what he was talking about and that he knows that she's well aware of that fact.

She shakes her head. 'We can't do anything until I've talked to Josh.'

'You could call him now.'

'In the middle of the night?'

'If it's okay for toast…'

'Eating toast and breaking up with someone are _not_ the same. Anyway, I can't do it over the phone.'

'Why not?'

'It's not right.'

'I broke up with Gina on the phone.'

'This is different. You'd been arguing with Gina.'

'So, you and Josh are getting on fine,' he says, the sharp edge of jealousy in his tone heightens the guilt that has been hovering at the verge of her awareness.

'Yes. No. It's…'

'Complicated?'

'No, it's not. He's been really busy and I've been busy and we haven't seen much of each other. I thought I missed him. I was really upset that he was going to Haiti but then when he didn't go, I realised that I didn't mind that he hadn't been around. I need to talk to him face-to-face, Rick. He stayed in New York because I asked him to. I can't just dump him over the phone.'

'So, when will you tell him, Kate?'

'I… Tomorrow.'

'You mean tomorrow tomorrow, or today tomorrow?'

'What?'

'It's morning. Do you mean later _this_ morning or the day after?'

'As soon as I get the chance, okay?' she snaps.

He gets up and takes a log from the cast iron hod and drops it onto the dying embers of the fire, stabbing it fiercely with the poker.

'I'm sorry. I know this isn't fair on you but it's not fair on him either. God, I've really messed up,' she says, grasping her head with both hands and sinking her fingers into her hair.

'Hey, no. I'm sorry. Kate, you've made me so happy tonight. I just wish I could hold you. I want to kiss you so badly and I know I can't.'

The longing in his voice nearly breaks her resolve. When she looks up, he's standing right in front of her and she can't stop herself reaching out a hand to him. He takes her long fingers in his and his touch is like a jolt of electricity.

Dan's impeccable timing rescues them from themselves. He is followed by a waitress carrying a tray and he ceremoniously places the toast and tea-cups on the coffee table. They reluctantly separate and Castle resumes his seat while Dan makes a performance of pouring their tea. When they are alone again, Kate devotes herself to herself to buttering a slice of toast but her fingers tremble as she lifts the plate. He relieves the tension again by snagging a piece from the rack.

'Hey! Order your own.'

'You need to learn to share, Beckett. I've seen you sneaking Gummy Bears out of your drawer when you think nobody's looking.'

'Gummy Bears are off limits, Castle. Everyone knows that. Besides, you shouldn't be staring.'

'I can't help it.'

She glances up at him and, true to form, he's watching her as if he cannot bear not to.

'Creepy,' she says, but she holds his deep blue eyes with her hazel ones as they eat their toast.

'You've got crumbs on your chin,' he says as she exchanges her plate for her cup.

She swipes at her chin but he shakes his head.

'Buttery crumbs. Mucky girl.'

He reaches towards her but she pulls back sharply, slopping tea into her saucer, and he drops his hand, passing her a napkin instead. They continue to eat and drink in silence until she puts her empty cup on the table.

'Do you often get up in the middle of the night to eat?' he asks.

'Sometimes,' she says, glancing around for any sign of Dan lurking nearby before she toes off her boots and curls her legs up on the couch like a satisfied cat.

'Good to know. I'll be prepared.'

She feels heat coursing through her body at the obvious implications of his words. His hungry look confirms he's thinking the same thing.

'Why tonight, Kate?' and she thinks it's a good question. There have been plenty of other nights where her thoughts have strayed to him, so why tonight? She tucks one foot under her bottom and watches the flames licking the log. A burst of sparks shoot into the air with a crackle, dazzling in their beauty.

'The last couple of days have been intense, Rick,' she begins, her eyes on the fire, 'I know it's not the first time either of us have been confronted by our own mortality but it made me realise that we don't know what's around the corner. I don't want to waste more of my time with a man I don't love.'

She is still staring at the fire as if mesmerised and misses the effect that her words have on him. He straightens his back and gazes at her, his lips parted. When he doesn't speak she turns to him and catches her breath at the wonder in his beautiful eyes, and the significance of what she has just said hits her. She doesn't want to waste time with a man she doesn't love but she wants him. She flushes but smiles shyly. She's not ready to say the words yet but they both know the truth.

'We seem to keep missing our chances, Castle. You went to the Hamptons with Gina…'

'Only because you were with Demming.'

'But I broke it off with Demming so I could go with you.'

'You did? I thought you broke up when I was away.'

She shakes her head. 'I was going to tell you but then Gina showed up and you two left together.'

'Oh God, if I had any idea… Damn!' he wails.

'I thought you couldn't have cared much if you could find a substitute so quickly…'

'Kate, you were with another man. I thought that I didn't have a chance. That you would never see me as more than a friend. I had to move on. Gina was self-defence. It wasn't fair on her but I think we both knew it would never last. But then motorcycle boy turned up and…'

'Because you were with Gina. I thought he was what I needed. I like him. He's a good man but there's no_' she searches for the right word.

'Magic?'

'Exactly!'

They smile at each other again but Kate's turns to a yawn.

'We should get some sleep,' he says, and she nods agreement.

'Can I just ask you one question?' he asks.

She cocks her head and waits.

'When we were in that freezer container you were about to say something. You said _"I just want you to know how much I…"_ and then you passed out. What did you want me to know?'

She smiles and bites her lip, teasing him with her eyes.

'That will have to wait until our first proper date. Come on,' she says, uncurling and snaking her feet into her boots, 'let's go home.'

**A/N Love to know what you think. Too slow?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Truth**

In one graceful, unbroken move, Kate unwinds, stands, and stretches her arms high, making no attempt to stifle another yawn. Her sweater rises, exposing a ribbon of pale gold skin on her elongated body and Castle watches with hungry eyes, for once not trying to cover up his admiration when she catches him, a challenge in her hazel eyes. He is rewarded for his bravery when her threatening glare is replaced by an altogether different menace. Assessing him from below hooded lids, she parts her lips to reveal the pink tip of her tongue and slowly straightens her ruffled sweater, splayed fingers smoothing past the hem and over her hips and buttocks. She responds to his groan with a grin, knowing exactly what she's doing to him.

'You staying here all night, Castle?'

'Huh? No… I… um… I'll just…'

He stumbles to his feet and grabs his coat, following her through the lobby. In other circumstances he'd be curious about the people still here in the middle of a cold February night, casting them in stories of intrigue and mystery, but tonight his attention is completely focussed on the woman in front of him, sashaying towards the door, coat dangling over her shoulder. He signals to the concierge that they need a ride and, catching up with her at the top of the stairs, he takes her coat and holds it out. She looks up at him and he sees that the temptress has gone to be replaced by yet another version of the woman he loves. This one is hesitant, eying the coat in his hands as if it's trap.

He gives it a shake, moving it a little closer to her. 'It's okay. It won't bite. Nor will I.'

She rolls her eyes but her lips twitch into a half grin before she turns to slide her arms into the sleeves and he can't resist freeing her hair and straightening her collar, finishing the job with a stroke of the perfectly fitted shoulders. She leans back into him and he dips his mouth close to her ear.

'Not until you want me to,' he whispers and she twists away.

'Castle!' she admonishes.

'Don't you want me to bite you, Detective?' he asks, feigning innocence.

'No!'

He raises a brow and she adds, 'Not... Maybe when…'

She smacks him on the chest and he tries to snag her hand but she's too quick for him, pulling it away and taking a step back.

'Rules. We need rules.'

'Rules. I like it. Just remember my safe word is apples.'

'We need rules until I've talked to Josh.'

At the sound of the doctor's name, he deflates, abandoning the plan he'd been formulating to follow her until he had her pinned against the wall.

'But you're going to do that today, right?'

'If I can.'

'Kate, you can't expect me to wait…'

Her eyes fly to his. 'You won't wait?'

'Of course I'll wait. I've been waiting for two years.'

'You have?'

'You know I have.'

She blushes beautifully, as if it's a surprise that he's wanted her since the moment she walked into his book launch and his life, and he pushes his hands into his pockets to stop himself from stroking her pink cheek.

'But now we both want the same thing, Kate…'

'I think we've both wanted that for a long time,' she admits, stealing a look at him through her long lashes and he takes a half pace towards her.

She stills him with a raised hand and a pleading look.

He sighs, accepting defeat. 'Okay, what are the rules?'

She takes a moment to think. 'No touching.'

'At all?'

She shakes her head.

'But we touch. We do. We hug sometimes. And hold hands. We've even kissed.'

'The kiss was undercover.'

'But now we can't do any of that?'

She shakes her head again. 'No, we can't.'

'That makes no sense,' he whines.

'It makes perfect sense. Every time we touch we both know that it means so much more than it did just a few hours ago. I told you, I don't trust me, and with the way you keep looking at me, I don't trust you either. Just let me tell Josh.'

He indicates his agreement with a reluctant dip of his head. She's right and it won't be long but now he knows that she's in this too, it's so much harder to be patient.

'There's only one other rule.'

He stands tall expecting a ban on suggestive comments, warm looks and late night texts. He's so focussed on being grown-up about the final few hours of his long wait that he completely misses the twinkle in her eyes.

'Ready?' she asks, and he gives a SWAT-worthy nod. 'No going outside without your shoes.'

He looks down at the fluffy spa slippers peeking out from his Armani pants. 'Crap. I'll just… I'll be a minute.'

He runs back through the lobby, stumbling as his feet almost escape from under him, his footwear clearly not designed for speeding across marble floors. He glances back at Kate and she's laughing but he doesn't mind because even from this distance he can tell from the tilt of her head and the soft glow of her face that her amusement is affectionate. Loving. He grins back before returning to his task, entirely losing a slipper as he takes a corner at speed, and hears Kate's rare but joyous laugh ring out in the otherwise silent lounge. It's quickly smothered and he knows that she's holding her fist against her mouth. He loves that sound and he's going to make sure that she has plenty of reasons to make it in the future.

He nearly collides with Dan who is walking towards him holding his shoes.

'Thanks,' he says, abandoning the remaining slipper and sliding his feet into his now warm shoes.

When he turns back he can't see Kate and, guessing the car must have arrived, he hurries to join her.

He takes the revolving door at speed and spills onto the pavement in time to see the doorman closing the door of a black limo that moves off, disappearing through a green light and around the corner before he even reaches the kerb.

'Kate?' he shouts.

The uniform clad doorman approaches him. 'Mr Castle? The lady said she was sorry but she had to go. I've asked them to bring around another car for you.'

'Damn! I mean… thank you.'

He sighs, already missing her, and scrambles in his pocket at the first ring of his phone.

'Kate? Why didn't you wait? I was going to take you home.'

'So we could have goodnight non-kiss outside my apartment?'

'We could have shared the car. It would have been fun.'

'Another journey sitting beside you in the backseat of a car without touching? I can think of better ways to have fun.'

'We could have tried those too.'

'You need to go back inside to wait for your car,' she says, ignoring his comment.

'It'll only be a few minutes.'

'It's colder than ever now. Please.'

'Detective Beckett, are you concerned about my welfare?' he teases.

'Yes.' It's matter of fact and honest; a simple answer to a simple question and he catches his breath.

'Oh.'

'So you'll wait inside?'

'I'm on my way. You really do care,' he says, grinning as the doorman holds open the door.

'Yes, Castle. I really do care.' Her voice is sultry and laced with love and he leans against the wall for support because they're actually doing this.

'Are you on duty tomorrow?'

'No, Montgomery has given me a day.'

'So, I'll see you…?'

'After I've talked with Josh.'

'You'll call?'

'As soon as I wake up. Goodnight, Rick. Sleep well.'

'You too. Kate. I lo… I'm so happy that you sent that text.'

'Me too,' and she's gone.

He stays where he is, leaning against the wall and grinning like a fool, until his car arrives.

* * *

He wakes to the slam of the front door and is instantly alert, reaching for his phone before even glancing at the clock. Nothing. No texts, no missed calls. She must still be sleeping. He snuggles down and lets his thoughts drift to a sleep tousled Beckett but any ideas he may have had about taking time to enjoy the images forming in his brain are dispelled by his mother's voice.

'Richard? Are you awake?'

'I am now, Mother.'

He swings his legs to the ground and pulls on his robe, anxious to start this new day. He desperately wants to call Kate but he doesn't want to wake her after their very late night, particularly if she'd tossed and turned as much as he had before eventually falling into a near comatose sleep that's left him thick headed. But despite feeling that his neck is supporting a couple of pounds more than usual, an irrepressible bubble of happiness has him bouncing out to greet his family.

'Oh, darling, are you all right?'

Martha hugs him tight and he returns the embrace with one arm, proffering the other to Alexis who comes to join them.

'Family hug. My favourite. You two are back early.'

Martha looks around his bicep at the kitchen clock. 'Not that early. It's after eleven.'

'We didn't want you to be alone, Dad.'

'Thank you, Pumpkin. Is that coffee I smell?'

'It is. It'll be ready in a minute. I'll pour you a cup,' Alexis says.

His mother squeezes his arm as they follow the girl to the kitchen. 'Are you really doing okay, kiddo?'

'Why wouldn't I be?'

She drops her voice, her eyes on her granddaughter. 'I can see that you fell asleep in your office with a bottle of whisky for company, and what with Beckett's boyfriend coming back…'

She lets the sentence trail off and he smiles reassuring at her.

'I'm fine. Couldn't be better. Do you want some toast? I really fancy some toast.'

* * *

Castle would have been surprised to know that Kate was waking from the best sleep she'd had in a long time. She'd fallen into bed within minutes of arriving home, turning her back on the disordered sheets that testified to Josh's presence there just a few short hours before. Wrapping herself around her pillow, she felt like a burden had been lifted from her and that she was on the verge of a new and exciting beginning. Her last thought before she dropped into an untroubled slumber was to wonder which side of the bed Castle slept on.

The stark light streaming in to her room declares that she's slept far later that usual. Even after long nights in the precinct she's typically up early, ready for another sleep-deprived day. But today, in of spite the stresses of the last few days, and regardless of the hours she'd spent disclosing long repressed feelings while the majority of the city was sleeping soundly, she's genuinely rested. She snuggles into her pillow and nibbles at her thumb as she recalls the events of the last twelve hours, not quite believing that she actually made that leap. Perhaps she should be embarrassed that she made the first move but she isn't. She's liberated and nervous, but mostly she's just happy.

She slips out of bed in search of coffee and her phone, automatically throwing the switch on the coffeemaker on her way past the kitchen recess. Her coat is draped untidily over the back of a chair and she spots one boot by the front door, abandoned in her haste to get to bed. The other is nowhere to be seen. She searches her coat pockets and, when they come up empty, scans the room, spying her cell on the kitchen island. Four missed calls and three texts have her biting her lip in anticipation and she eagerly flicks through them but the name that she reads again and again has her dropping into a chair and massaging her temples with her fingertips.

She hadn't forgotten him, of course she hadn't. But Josh Davidson had been temporarily filed away while she'd let thoughts of her promising future dominate her mind. Now the reality of her situation comes crashing around her as she reads his messages.

_Hope you're feeling better this morning. Talk later. Love you. Jx_

_Are you okay? Jx_

_Kate, just text so I know you're all right. Jxx _

The phone rings as she's reading the last message and the handsome doctor looks up at her. She should answer, she really should, but she drops the cell on the table and leaves it to watch the drips of coffee fall into the pot. She's unsurprised to hear a text arrive but she waits until the coffee is brewed and pours herself a mug before reading the new message.

_I'm on my way._

Her thumbs speed across the keyboard.

_Sorry. Just woke up. Will call when I've had a shower._

The ringtone sounds out in less than a minute and she's tempted to leave it but she knows that she's putting off the inevitable.

'Morning Josh.'

'Kate, I was so worried.'

'I was sleeping.'

'For almost 12 hours? You usually struggle to stay in bed for half that.'

'No, it was only … Er, yeah. I guess I was extra tired. Listen, Josh, I need to see you.'

'Hey, I need to see you too, sweetheart. I've got to drop by the hospital to talk to Professor Kingsley about getting back to work. Join me for a late lunch in the canteen? Say two o'clock?'

'Sure. Yeah. See you then.'

She hangs up, cutting him off before he can get syrupy. A fond farewell would be too much to bear. A shower sounds good but there's another call she has to make first. She gets comfortable for this one, curling up in the chair with her mug within easy reach.

'Hey there, Cinderella.'

* * *

The women in his life are making plans and Castle is evasive, unwilling to commit to anything until he talks to Kate.

Alexis frowns and perches on the corner of his desk, facing him. 'But, Dad, you love Lafayette.'

'I do, but maybe not today.'

'Okay, where do you want to go? Petrocelli's? La Maison Rouge?'

He leans back in his leather chair, cradling his phone in his hand as if testing its weight and Martha lifts her head from the latest edition of _Harper's Bazaar_.

'If you're not hungry, we could always take in a little retail therapy. There's the sweetest little Gucci bag in here we could check out in Saks. Alexis needs a dress for Candice's party and we might even find something for you.'

'Why don't you two go shopping with my platinum card? You know how much you enjoy that.'

'No, Dad, we are not leaving you alone. You've had a terrible experience and we're here for you.'

'Thank you. That's very kind, but I may not be alone.'

'Not alone? Are you expecting someone?'

'Ah… not exactly.'

He wants to escape to the privacy of his bedroom but he's hemmed in by Alexis on one side and his mother who has made herself comfortable in a chair at the other end of his desk. He'd taken refuge in his study after his breakfast toast but they followed him and, like a pair of hounds, now they can smell blood.

'Richard, what is going on? You've been all flibbertigibberty ever since we got home.'

'I'm sure I've not been in the least flibbertigibberty.'

'You most certainly have, flitting around from one thing to another and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. And you haven't put that phone down for a moment. What exactly did you get up to last night? Who are you expecting a morning after call from?'

'Mother!' he warns, eyes flicking to Alexis who is wrinkling her nose in disgust, and he can't help adding, 'and may I just say that it should be "From whom are you expecting" but it's a common mistake.'

Martha assesses him with narrowed eyes and he can feel beads of sweat forming on his brow. He puts his phone on the desk and folds his hands over his abdomen, aiming at nonchalant and failing miserably.

'You might as well tell us, you know. We will find out.'

Alexis nods in agreement though, from the look on her face, she's not sure that she actually wants to know. Three sets of eyes turn at the ring of his phone, two meeting in surprise as he snatches the mobile and squeezes past his daughter, shutting his bedroom door and leaning against it.

'Hey Cinderella.'

'Kate, at last.'

'You okay?'

'Mother and Alexis are interrogating me. You could learn from them, Beckett.'

Her laugh soothes his jangled nerves. 'What about?'

'Interrogation techniques.'

'No, you fool. What are they interrogating you about?'

'Ah, right. You.'

'Me? What?' she snaps.

'Not you, you, A theoretical you. They don't know the you is you. Though they may know now because they saw you on my phone.'

'Castle, are you delirious?'

'Maybe. Did you sleep okay?'

'Best sleep I've had in a long time,' she replies, and he can hear the smile in her voice.

He leaves his post by the door and lies down on the bed, grinning into the mouthpiece.

'What about you?' Kate asks.

'Took me a while to drop off. My mind was on my beautiful…' He hesitates searching for the right word settling for '…partner. You just wake up?'

'About 20 minutes ago.'

'And you didn't call?'

'It's only 20 minutes, Castle.'

'You said you'd call as soon as you woke up,' he moans.

'If you're going to be this needy…'

'I won't. I promise. I just miss you.'

'Ha,' she scoffs, but he can tell she doesn't really mind.

'So, aside from drinking coffee, what was more important that calling me?'

'I talked to Josh.'

He sighs and stares at the ceiling. 'Right.'

'I'm going to meet him for lunch.'

'And you'll tell him?'

'I will. What are you doing today?'

'Mother and Alexis want to take me out so I'm going to hide.'

He's relieved to hear her laugh. 'You should go.'

'But you're going to talk to motorcycle boy.'

'And that makes a difference how?'

'You might need me.'

'Trust me. I can handle this. I'll call you when it's done.'

'Okay. We could have dinner tonight.'

'Are you asking me out on a date?'

He rolls onto his side looking at the empty space beside him. 'Yeah. I am. It's time Cinderella took Prince Charming to the ball.'

'Shouldn't it be the other way round?'

'You started the whole Cinderella thing.'

'You did lose your slipper. Don't you think it would be decorous to wait a little longer?'

'Decorous. I like it. And no, I don't. I think we've waited long enough.'

He aches to see the look that accompanies the gentle exhalation he hears.

'Yeah, me too. Ask me again later. After I've done the dirty deed. I need to shower now. Talk later.'

'We could keep talking while you shower.'

'Castle.'

'Maybe later. good luck. I hope it's not too tough.'

'Thanks. Bye, Rick.'

'Bye.'

He rolls onto his back, limbs fanned like a star. A few hours and he'll get to take Kate Beckett to dinner, walk her home, kiss her goodnight. Or maybe kiss her good morning. She'll be his. He's been hers for a long time.

'Richard? Is there something you want to share?' Martha calls from the other side of the door.

**A/N Thank you for so many kind reviews and PMs. I do appreciate all my readers, followers and particularly reviewers. I'm sorry I haven't managed to reply to all of you. Busy work, busy week, busy life. Hope you like this update. I always love to hear from you. I promise that Josh is on his way out but maybe not as soon as you'd like.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Thank you all for your continued love for this story and for your patience. Travelling home and a wonderful family Christmas have taken priority but now I'm back. Thank you for waiting. I'd love to know what you think of this chapter. x**

* * *

**Honesty**

_'Richard? Is there something you want to share?' Martha calls from the other side of the door._

Castle scrambles to his feet and scurries to the bathroom, desperate for some thinking time before his mother and daughter subject him to cross-examination.

'Sorry, Mother. Can't hear you. Just getting into the shower,' he shouts.

He slams the door, drops his robe, kicks off his boxers and takes refuge in the shower cubicle, confident that even his mother won't follow him in here. He gasps as the cool water hits him and fumbles with the controls to get the temperature just right, letting the torrent of steaming water cascade down his face and body. It's refreshing and exhilarating but it doesn't help him decide what he should tell his family.

If he tells them that he and Beckett have decided to start a relationship but they haven't done so yet, he'll sound like some weird obsessive who's deluding himself into believing that he's got a chance with the girl of his dreams. And maybe that's not miles away from the truth because he's been obsessed with Kate Beckett for a long time. The sassy, smart, beautiful detective had intrigued him from the moment she'd walked into his book launch party, even before she'd slapped on the cuffs in the library. She was hot and sexy and he couldn't resist the challenge when she seemed immune to his charms, but the more he got to know her, the more he needed to know. Peeling the Beckett onion became his mission and it wasn't long before the woman started to haunt his waking hours and his dreams. If he were writing a book about their relationship, he'd be the creepy stalker.

Except Kate isn't a stalkee. Not now, anyway. She's been a willing participant in their dance for a long time and just twelve short hours earlier she'd turned his world on its head. More than anything he wants her to be truly in this, wants this to be real, but he can't help worrying that this may just be her reaction to almost dying together and that she might decide that this – them - isn't what she wants after all. What happens then? They can't go back to the way they were. The fear that she didn't want the same thing as him is the reason that he's always backed off from making a move. The one thing worse than seeing Kate Beckett with another man would be not having her in his life at all.

He turns his back on the water and the powerful flow it beats its pattern on his tense shoulders. Right now she is getting ready to dump her boyfriend for him. Will she lose her nerve when she sees Dr Motorcycle Boy? Sorenson and Demming had never intimidated him, but Josh Davidson is different. He's handsome, successful, and a cardiac surgeon who happens to be taller than him. Why would she choose him over the doctor?

His heart tells him that she wants to take this chance as much as he does but his head is sending a warning that it may not be as simple as he hopes. Their story is hardly more than an outline and he's not sharing it with anyone until they've at least started the first chapter. His mother will have other ideas but he can resist her. The lock on his bathroom is really strong.

* * *

The hospital is as busy as Grand Central Station and is populated by a similar cross section of humanity. Medical staff, their jobs revealed by the colour of their scrubs if you know the code, are comfortable and relaxed on their home turf; porters chat over the shoulders of patients as they guide their wheelchairs along the corridor at a gentle pace; the sick – vulnerable and disoriented in the alien environment – wait with nervous loved ones, desperate for words of reassurance and hope. Tragedy and joy coexist just inches from each other, but Kate is oblivious to the gamut of human emotion on display around her as she slips through the green double doors marked for staff only. She turns right into a short inner corridor and presses a bell for access at the next pair of doors, identifying herself to the disembodied voice that crackles through the ether.

'Kate Beckett. Dr Davidson's…' She leaves the statement hanging. Dr Davidson's what? Girlfriend for the next ten minutes? About to be ex?

As she contemplates how to describe herself, a buzzer signals that the door is unlocked and she's been granted entry into the staff canteen. She's been here a few times with Josh and she has learnt that hospital hours mean that it's never empty. It's is always someone's break time. Even when it's not as full as it is right now, noise is accentuated by the high ceiling and unadorned whitewashed walls, ensuring that a constant cacophony of sound reverberates around the room. It's far from the ideal place to do what she has to, and the sight of Josh waving to her from a table filled with his co-workers, serves to reinforce that belief.

She snakes through the tables, her bottom lip clamped between her teeth, indifferent to nods of recognition and more than a few admiring glances that, if she thought about it at all, wouldn't surprise her. She's been an object of desire for men since she was still in high school and she's well aware of the effect that she has clad as she is in black leather with her bike helmet tucked under her arm. The attention and the power that it gave her had fed her conceit for a while but she grew out of it quickly, recognizing that most of those men saw her as an object and that very few wanted to know the real Kate Beckett. She's not above using her assets when it suits her; more than one criminal has been fooled by her appearance and, when she'd zipped up her custom made boots today, she had let her mind wander to thoughts of what Castle's reaction would be if he saw her dressed like this.

It takes less than thirty seconds to reach Josh. He stands to greet her, leaning in for a kiss, and conscious of the interest of everyone around the table, she lets his lips lightly brush hers, forcing herself not to pull away too quickly. Even the fleeting touch of his mouth on hers feels like a betrayal confirming what she already knows; Josh was never more than a futile attempt to find someone to fill the chasm that had ripped through her when Castle had got back together with Gina. Deep down she'd always known that she was asking for the impossible from the doctor and now she's ashamed that she let him think that they might have a chance together.

She steps back, forcing him to loosen the arm that he's wrapped around her shoulders but he doesn't let go, holding her possessively by his side. She meets his gaze for a moment before looking away, uncomfortable under his close examination. When she turns her attention to the group around the table, six sets of eyes instantly look elsewhere, but dark brown pair, framed by long eyelashes in a handsome African American face, don't waver in their appraisal of her.

'Kate, this is Professor Kingsley,' Josh says.

He gives her shoulders a quick squeeze they manages to convey that this introduction is important to him and the burden of responsibility weighs on her shoulders as Kingsley stands and takes her hand in a strong grip.

'Detective Beckett, I've heard a lot about you. I guessed that you must be something special to keep Joshua from pursuing his humanitarian plans in Haiti but I didn't realize just how special until now. I'm not at all surprised that he chose you.'

On the face of it, this sounds like a compliment but, combined with his penetrating look and condescending tone, Kate can't miss the implied criticism. There's no doubt in her mind that he's judged her to be a selfish, scheming woman who puts her own desires above both the welfare of the poor of Haiti and the noble aspirations of the good Dr Davidson. That he has had the audacity to make his decision without her saying a word makes her hackles rise along with her chin and she stares him out, ignoring the twitching beside her that tells her that Josh is getting nervous. She has the satisfaction of making the professor break eye contact first but she's left with the feeling that maybe the criticism she thinks he's leveling at her is just. She did argue Josh into staying in New York. And what Professor Kingsley doesn't know is that she's about to break up with his protégé. She feels heat steal into her cheeks as she imagines what he'll have to say about selfish women then.

'Kate is a homicide detective, Professor,' Josh says, filling the awkward silence.

She glances up at him. He looks uncomfortable and puzzled, clearly baffled by her reaction and a picture of Castle comes unbidden to her mind. He'd know exactly what was bothering her and would be juggling with calming her down and defending her, probably making a hash of both. Her mouth twists into an affectionate grin at the thought and Josh misconstrues this, smiling down at her, though she can't blame him for the mistake. How could he possibly know that she's smiling because she's thinking about another man?

'I remember you mentioned that. It's an interesting career choice,' comments Professor Kingsley.

Kate hears him add "for a pretty woman" in her head. 'You think so? More interesting than medicine or law?'

'I guess not. Less predictable perhaps.'

'If we were all predictable, life would be rather dull, don't you think?'

He tips his head to one side and she can see disdain morph into intrigue.

'Very true, Detective. I think getting to know you better would be far from dull.'

'If only that were possible, Professor,' she says, directing her attention away from him before she's even finished speaking. 'Josh, I need to speak to you.'

'Sure.' He releases her shoulder and moves to pull over a chair but she shakes her head.

'Not here.'

'But, Kate, I wanted to introduce you to…'

'It's important.'

'Okay.' He draws out the word. 'We can go outside.'

He takes her elbow, pausing when Professor Kingsley calls after him. 'Twenty minutes in theatre, Doctor.'

'I'll be there.'

She doesn't need to look back to know that the group left around the table are buzzing with curiosity and she's sorry that Josh will have to deal with the consequences of that when she's gone. As she waits for him to open the sliding door, she notices for the first time that he's in scrubs.

'You're operating?'

'Yes. Kingsley has a tricky quadruple bypass and he's asked me to assist.'

'So you're back on staff?'

'Not exactly. He's already got someone in to cover for me but I'm familiar with the new procedure he's using so he wants me in.'

Kate imagines that the terrace would be popular in the summer but today they have it to themselves, the chill of the night before having continued into the day. She zips up her jacket and leaves her helmet on one of the black wrought iron tables before leaning over the chest-high wall for a glimpse of the city. From this height the traffic noise is dulled to a low level rumble but it's loud enough to cover the sound of Josh approaching and she freezes at the touch of his hands on her biceps and the feel of his body pressed against her back

'What was all that with Kingsley, Kate?' he asks.

'It's not important.'

'You know, he's my boss…'

'Josh, it really doesn't matter,' she snaps.

She feels him tense behind her and then he drops his hands. She takes a deep breath and turns to see he's taken up a position a few feet away, leaning into the outside corner of the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

'Look, I know that you've had a terrible time. You need a break. We should take a few days. Go away somewhere together.'

'That's not a good idea.' She rests her back against the wall, deliberately keeping her arms by her sides although her natural inclination is to mirror his closed arms.

'Why not?'

She drums her fingers against the wall behind her, letting the tips scrape over the rough brickwork, the discomfort a welcome punishment. She deserves much worse. Her guilt about his cancelled mission has only increased since meeting Kingsley. She knows that she shouldn't care about his opinion or that of the adoring doctors who are eagerly waiting to find out what the evil bitch is doing to their golden boy, but she does. It hasn't helped to learn that there's a locum filling his job, leaving him out of work. She knows it's temporary - the Haiti mission was for a month – but he's a driven and dedicated doctor and he'll be frustrated to be without purpose even for a few weeks.

'What about Haiti?' she asks.

'You want to go to Haiti?'

'No! I mean what about the job in Haiti.'

'They'll get someone else.'

'But they haven't yet?'

'No. It'll take a little while.'

'You should go.'

'What?' he barks, his face a picture of confusion.

'I think you should go. It was unfair of me to ask you to stay.'

'No, Kate, you were right. I can't keep flying off. I need to be here with you if we're going to give our relationship a proper chance.'

He steps towards her and reaches for her hands but lets his fall to his sides when she thrusts hers behind her back.

She takes a deep breath and raises her eyes to meet his. 'The thing is, Josh, our relationship isn't going anywhere.'

'What are you talking about?' His dark brows snap together giving him a saturnine look and if she didn't know him, she might be scared.

'I can't do this anymore. I really like you but I'm never going to feel more than that. I'm sorry but this over.'

He turns, strides away and then swings back to face her. When he speaks, his tone is surprisingly calm.

'You nearly died, Kate. It's natural to be knocked off kilter. You need time…'

She shakes her head vehemently and cuts him off. 'No! I know exactly what I'm doing and I'm not going to change my mind.'

'This is about Castle,' he states, his voice tainted with bitterness. 'He's taken advantage of your state of mind…'

'My state of mind? What does that mean?'

'Any one of the traumas that you've been through in the last few days would have been enough to affect anybody. The combination is more than anyone should have to bear. You just need some time. Maybe you should talk to someone…'

This was always going to be a difficult conversation and she'd expected him to be upset and angry. She was prepared to apologise, to accept all the blame because it is all hers. He's done nothing wrong but she feels a flare of anger ignite in her chest because he keeps making excuses for her like she's a simpleton. She advances until she's standing a foot away from him, forcing herself to take a calming breath before speaking.

'I'm a police officer, Josh. You think I don't know about trauma? I've been in enough life-threatening situations to know about the effects and one of them is to focus you on what's really important and to recognize your mistakes. I'm really sorry that you and I haven't worked out. You're a good man, a really good man, and you deserve someone who loves you but that isn't me.'

He bends his head so his face is just inches from hers. 'Do you think you love Castle?'

She spins away, picking up her helmet and turning back to face him. 'This isn't about him. It's about us.'

'You think I'm stupid? I've seen the way he looks at you. You think I'm not sick of hearing "Castle said this" or "Castle did that"? Are you sleeping with him?'

'No!'

'But you want to. You're going to him now, aren't you? God knows, I'm aware that you've got issues, Kate. It hasn't been easy being with a woman who won't let me in, never tells me what she feels. You think that Richard Castle is the man to heal you? He just wants to fuck you and once he's got what he wants he'll move on.'

'Are you finished?' she asks, unable to keep the quiver out of her voice, not sure whether it's caused by anger or the tears that she's blinking back.

He clenches his jaw but says nothing so she continues.

'I'm sorry that being with me has been so difficult. I hoped that we might be able to part amicably and I'm sorry that hasn't been possible. Goodbye, Josh.'

She turns, stilling as he grabs her arm to prevent her leaving.

'Wait. I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't mean… I love you. Please, let's just talk about this,' he pleads, his anger spent.

'I think we've talked enough.'

She shrugs off his arm and strides through the canteen, ignoring the blatant stares from his colleagues. She doesn't notice Professor Kingsley in the corridor until she hears him call out to her.

'Ah, Detective Beckett, I was thinking. You and Joshua should come and have dinner with me and my wife. Next week perhaps?'

She walks straight past him, taking the stairs rather than the lift, needing to keep moving, not stopping until she's on the street. She leans against her Harley, swiping her hand down her face. Her cheeks are dry but she's shaken by his anger and what he said about Castle. She's feared from the first moment that she felt the pull of attraction for the writer that all he wanted was to add her to his conquests. It's what has held her back for so long. What if Josh is right?

'Kate? Are you okay?'

Her breath catches and she pivots to find Castle standing just behind her, one hand hovering by her arm as if waiting for permission to touch.

'Castle! What are you doing here?'

'I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have come but I was worried about you. I knew it was going to be difficult...'

She curls into his broad chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against the soft cashmere of his overcoat. The look of concern and love on his face is all the reassurance she needs that Josh is wrong. He envelops her in his long arms, nuzzling her hair with his nose or chin. She doesn't care which she only knows that this is where she's supposed to be.

'It's okay,' he murmurs close to her ear and she relaxes into him.

'The leathers are totally hot, by the way,' he adds, stroking her back and she chuckles.


	8. Chapter 8

**Flowers**

The music of Kate chuckling, the bliss of her snuggling closer, is intoxicating and Castle battles to calm his breathing. The pulse is his neck flutters and he hopes that his clothing can mask his uneven heartbeat. He's wearing an extra layer today because, while he'd been hiding from his mother and daughter, he'd relived every moment of their life-changing, night-time odyssey. If Kate thought he needed an undershirt then he'd wear one. Who knows? Perhaps later she might help him take it off. These random thoughts are not helping and he hopes that the extra insulation will not only keep him warm, it will also help to conceal his struggle not to tremble that has nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the woman in his arms. He tightens his grip, rests his chin on her head and immerses himself in the moment.

'You're either seriously in violation of your own rules or the deed is done,' he murmurs.

She sighs. 'Done.'

'Was it difficult?'

'Yeah. You could say that.'

'I'm sorry.'

'I'm not. I should have done it sooner. It would have been fairer for everyone.'

She pulls back to look up at him, her furrowed brow a telltale sign that something is puzzling her.

'How did you find me?'

Coming to the hospital had been a spur of the moment decision. When he'd sent her a text asking when and where she was meeting Josh, he hadn't intended to make an appearance; he'd wanted to be able to visualise her, to somehow be able to support her in his mind, will her to be strong. But it hadn't worked out like that. Knowing where she was had made him even more agitated until he had to do something. The pointlessness of his mission struck him as soon as he reached the hospital. There were four main entrances and even more side doors. She might leave through any of them. He had no idea where to wait or how long she might be. But then he'd had a stroke of luck.

'I spotted the Harley.'

He's worried that she might be about to bawl him out for tracking her down but she just nods as if acknowledging good police work. He'd never seen her bike before and until a few months ago he wouldn't have been able to tell a Softail from a Sportster, but as soon as she'd told him that she had a bike his compulsion to know everything about her had led him to in-depth research into Harley-Davidson motorcycles and '94 Softails in particular. He rationalised to himself that he needed to know for Nikki and hadn't let himself dwell on why he was still so absorbed with the minutiae of Beckett's life while he was with Gina.

'Where are Martha and Alexis?'

'Petrocelli's. Probably deciding between gelato and tiramisu. '

'You persuaded them to go without you?' she asks and he grimaces.

'Not exactly. I… er… I told them I was going to the restroom and I slipped out.'

'Castle? You ran away? They must be worried.'

He shakes his head. 'I sent a text to Mother to tell them I had to leave.'

He's pretty pleased with himself for managing to escape and he's disappointed that, if her frown is any indication, she doesn't seem to share his pride.

'What? It was the only option. I couldn't have held out much longer against their relentless questioning and I needed to make sure that you were okay.'

He rubs the back of his index finger along her elegant cheekbone, tucks an errant curl behind her ear, and has the satisfaction of watching her brow clear as she leans into his touch.

'Did they ask about me?'

'Constantly. I told them that you'd called about a case but they didn't believe me. Mother said I'd been mooning around like a love sick teenager until you phoned.'

She throws him a devastating smile that has him hitch his breath. The idea of him pining for her seems to be one that she likes. A lot. He grins back then winces as she gives him a squeeze.

Concern clouds her face. 'What?'

'Nothing. Just I think your visor is sticking into my butt.'

'Oh! Sorry.'

She releases him with a guilty look at the helmet that's looped over her arm.

'I didn't say I minded,' he whines and she grins.

'I should go.'

'We could grab some lunch. I left before my pasta arrived and I guess that you didn't actually eat with Doctor Motorcycle Boy,' he pleads, desperate to be with her now that Josh is finally out of the picture.

She rolls her eyes but doesn't actually call him out over his chosen epithet for Josh.

'I'm saving myself for later, Castle. I've got a hot date.'

She flicks her brows provocatively, runs her teeth over her bottom lip and he's spellbound. He licks his lips and leans in, thinking only of covering her mouth with his but she puts on her helmet, blocking his approach.

She fastens the chin strap and, although he can't see her mouth, the laughter lines around her eyes give her away. 'You think I'm the sort of girl to kiss _before_ our first date?'

'You seem to forget that we've already kissed, Beckett.'

She draws on one of her black gloves. 'Undercover, Castle, undercover. Pick me up?'

There's a hesitancy in her voice as if she doesn't know how this works between them and he instinctively reaches for the one bit of her golden skin that is still uncovered, dwarfing her hand with his.

'Eight on the dot. Be ready. Wear sometime…'

'Sexy?' she supplies as he seems to struggle to find the right word.

'Everything you wear is sexy.'

He raises her long fingers to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to the back of her hand.

'Oh, Mr Castle. So gallant.'

He turns her hand over and lightly runs the tip of his tongue across the sensitive skin at her wrist. She stills for a moment and then squeezes his hand tightly before releasing it and he notices with satisfaction that the tremble in her fingers as she slots them into the other gauntlet. She interlinks her fingers to ram them into place, closes the visor and she stands in front of him in black from top to toe, the leathers hugging her body and leaving little work for his overactive imagination. She's completely hidden from the world but he knows that he'd recognize her anywhere. He can't imagine seeing anything sexier until she straddles the Harley and fires up the engine. She flips up the visor for a moment.

'Thank you. For coming here. It was really sweet. See you at eight.'

She closes the visor again and moves off with a cursory wave of her hand, leaving him slack jawed on the sidewalk, watching until she disappears from view.

* * *

He sits down on his chair at Petrocelli's as if he'd been gone for a few minutes rather than forty, grabbing a spare fork and spearing a large mouthful of Alexis' tiramisu.

'Hey!' She smacks his hand away but she's too late, his eyes lighting up as his lips close over the fork.

'S'gud,' he mumbles.

'Richard! Where have you been?' Martha demands.

He reaches towards his daughter's plate again but she's prepared this time, pinning his fork to the table with her own.

'I just had something to do. It's a case…'

'No it isn't. Captain Montgomery told me that Detective Beckett is not on duty today.'

He abandons his efforts to get through Alexis' defences, dropping the fork on to the white linen tablecloth. 'Mother! You called the Captain?'

'I did.' She waves a hand in front of his face. 'Don't worry. I said I just wanted to check how Katherine was but that you were out. He doesn't suspect anything.'

'There's nothing to suspect.'

'Dad, we're not stupid. We know how you feel about Beckett,' Alexis says.

'You do? I mean…'

'And we saw your face when she called this morning. You can stop trying to fool us,' Martha chimes in.

She sits back crossing her arms and, when the younger redhead mirrors her actions, he knows that he's beaten.

He leans forward conspiratorially and they do the same. 'Look, nothing has happened but Beckett has split up with her boyfriend and we're going out on a date tonight.'

The two women exchange knowing looks.

'Please don't say anything. To anyone. Particularly Beckett. She might be going out with me but that doesn't mean she won't shoot me if she finds out I've told you.'

Martha pats his hand. 'We won't, darling. And I don't think you need to worry about her shooting you. I've seen how she looks at you.'

'What do you mean?'

'She's soft on you, Dad. It's obvious.'

He looks from one to the other. 'You think so?'

'We do. Now where are you taking her?' Martha asks.

'Well I… God, where _am _I taking her?' He's been so caught up in the heady buzz that his dreams might be about to come true that he hasn't given any thought to the reality.

Martha is appalled. 'You mean you don't know?'

'Dad, you haven't made a reservation?'

'I… wasn't sure until I saw her. I'll be able to get a table. I can always get a table,' he attempts to convince himself. 'I've got to go. See you at home.'

And for the second time today he abandons them in the restaurant.

* * *

The bed is strewn with dresses and Kate unzips the little red one she's wearing and adds it to the pile. She's not normally like this. The last time she remembers trying on everything in her wardrobe was for the launch party for _Heat Wave_. She sits on the edge of her bed and stares into her almost empty closet. This is ridiculous. She's got plenty of options and almost any of them would be fine. The trouble is that fine isn't enough. This is her first real date with Castle and it feels… It searches for the right word. Momentous. It feels momentous. She hasn't felt like this since… God, she doesn't remember ever feeling like this. She wishes that she could phone Lanie but she's not ready for that yet. Because this is momentous. Jeez, she needs a smaller word that doesn't make her so nervous.

She would have gone shopping for something new but her break-up with Josh had shaken her up more than she'd let Castle see. He'd said some things that had hurt her but there was enough truth hidden in his tirade to leave her feeling not just angry, but also ashamed. However she looked at it, she'd led him on. She could see now that all the time she'd been with him, she'd been trying to push Castle out of her head and out of her heart. It hadn't worked and if she'd been honest with herself and Josh, she would have admitted it months ago. Going straight from a break-up to buying a new dress for her date seemed too heartless but now, rummaging through the remainder of her wardrobe, she's regrets her oversensitivity.

'Oooh!' she breathes, lifting out a hanger and holding up a dark green silk cheongsam.

She'd forgotten about this impulse purchase in Shanghai Tang's sale and it's languished in the back of her closet ever since in readiness for a very special occasion. Kate holds it against her and studies her reflection. The modest neckline is balanced by the figure skimming Chinese styling that's unforgiving of lumps and bumps but perfect for her slim, toned body. The hem falls a few inches above her knee, revealing enough leg to dazzle Castle but no so much that it'll display too much when she sits.

She needs to get moving. It's nearly seven thirty and, although she's spent a ridiculous two hours bathing and shaving and buffing and moisturising, this dress requires a few adjustments. Not least, her freshly dried waves need to be tamed into an updo.

* * *

He's early. She shouldn't be surprised; he probably arrived ages ago. She smiles at the thought of impatient Richard Castle pacing the corridor outside her apartment waiting until he thinks he can get away with ringing the bell. She's almost done. Just one final touch left but as it's putting on her dress, it is vital. She hears him knock, perhaps unsure if she'd heard the bell, and grabs her robe, slipping it on over her underwear as she jogs to the door. She peeks through the viewer and is stunned and just a little disappointed by the sight of a massive bunch of lilies. He's brought her flowers before and they've been understated and charming. He can be over the top sometimes but one of the ways he's surprised her and wheedled his way into her heart, is by the things he does for her that are thoughtful rather than extravagant.

She tightens the belt on her wrap and pulls open the door. 'You're early. Oh, you're not… It's you.'

The man that peers around the flowers isn't Castle. It's Josh.

**A/N Thank you for all the reviews and PMs. I'm sorry to leave it here but I will update in the next couple of days. Josh is on his way out but he insisted that I let him make one more appearance. Castle's due to arrive any moment and I don't think he'll be late for his first date with Kate. Do you?**


	9. Chapter 9

_She tightens the belt on her wrap and pulls open the door. 'You're early. Oh, you're not… It's you.'_

_The man that peers around the flowers isn't Castle. It's Josh._

* * *

**Sorry**

'I'm so sorry, Kate.'

His body is hidden behind the massive bouquet and all she can see of him is his long legs and his head tilted towards his shoulder. His sleek black hair flops to the side and his sad puppy eyes plead for forgiveness.

She's stunned into silence, tries to adjust to the unexpected sight. The gentle ribbing she was ready to deliver to Castle about his over-eagerness dries on her tongue, and she swallows in an effort to recover her voice.

'Josh. I didn't expect_. You er... You really didn't need to.'

She gestures to the flowers and hesitates, then opens her arms to take them but he's already passing her, carrying them to the kitchen.

'What are you doing?'

She follows him across him across the room, regretting that she'd opened the door wide, exasperated that he's simply walking into her apartment, and she watches helplessly as he stands the bouquet in the sink.

'It's heavy. I'll just put them here while you get out a vase. I don't want you to stain your…' He pauses, taking in her clothing for the first time.

'Are you just out of the shower?'

'What? No! Thank you for the lilies. It was a kind thought.'

She stands back leaving a clear path to the door but he doesn't move, continues speaking as if he hasn't heard her.

'If I'd timed that better I could have scrubbed your back.'

He smiles and her stomach flutters with rising panic as she realises that he isn't here to simply apologise for the hurtful crap he'd hurled at her. He's behaving like they're still a couple, though she's not convinced that they ever really were.

'Josh, I'm grateful for the flowers, I really am. But we don't have anything else to say to each other. I'll … er… see you around. Maybe.'

This time she holds her arm out in the direction of the door and waits for him to leave but he grips the counter behind him with both hands and leans back, knuckles white and eyes earnest.

'I know I was an ass. I'm sorry. I should have been more understanding after everything that you've been through. Given you time…'

'I don't need time and what you said had nothing to do with my decision. Look, I don't want to go over this again. I'm sorry about Haiti. I should never have asked you not to go. I shouldn't have let you believe that we might have a future when I knew we didn't.'

'Please, Kate, I know that I got my priorities wrong but I can do better. Give me another chance.'

He's immobile but his mouth is hurtling on like an engine on a railroad. 'I shouldn't have said that stuff about Castle. I know that you just see him as a friend'

She bites her lip and she can see that her flush has betrayed her. He looks at her more carefully, taking in not just the wrap but also the carefully applied make-up and the black stilettos.

'You're going out with him, aren't you? I thought that you had more sense. How long has this been going on?'

'There's nothing going on.'

His dark brows snap together and she reads the disbelief there. It's fair enough and he probably deserves the truth.

'I am going out with him tonight but I didn't cheat on you, Josh, though I've known for a long time that I want to be with him.'

He shakes his head vehemently. 'No. That's not true. He's taken advantage of you, dug up your mom's case to make you think that he cares. You shouldn't trust him. He's predatory. You know his reputation.'

Her guilt is extinguished by a flash of anger.

'Yes, Josh. I do know his reputation. The handsome, shallow playboy looking for nothing more than another notch on the bedpost. Failed marriages, beautiful girlfriends, living life extravagantly on page six.'

She takes three steps so that she standing right before him, jaw clenched, fisted hands held tight to her thighs challenging him to say another word.

* * *

Castle checks his watch again. He has walked the length of her block and back three times and it's still not eight. The security guard at the entrance to the upscale apartments across the street is eying him suspiciously and the driver of his town car is waiting behind the wheel, trying not to watch him at all. He turns to do another circuit but then swings back. He knows that she'll tease him about arriving early but he doesn't care. He's been anticipating this moment for years and he's done waiting.

He's had a lot of first dates in his life and most of them haven't led to a second, but he's never felt so nervous before. But then he's never had a first date with a woman he knows so well, with the only woman who really knows him. They've been friends for years and he's not worried about the usual things, the awkward small talk or the discovery that they've got nothing in common. Perhaps he should be concerned that she won't like him when she gets to know his dirty secrets, but he can't believe that there's anything he could find out about Kate Beckett that would make him love her less. And there's the rub. Since when does anyone go on a first date already completely and irrevocably in love, knowing that she's the one? He feels like his future rests on this night. If it doesn't work out, they can never go back, and he's terrified of the prospect of not having her in his life.

He bends his knees to check his hair in clear patch of the misted mirror in the elevator and straightens the collar of his white shirt. He'd started in a red button down but Alexis had vetoed that, saying he was trying too hard. So he changed to white and she'd chosen a dark blue silk tie that, she said, brought out the colour of his eyes. The black jacket was his mother's idea. She said it was both slimming and sophisticated. He shakes his shoulders as he gets out on her floor, as if limbering up for a prize fight, grins when he gets to her door because she's left it ajar for him. Then his smile freezes as he hears her voice. He doesn't know who she's talking to but he knows who she's talking about.

'…handsome, shallow playboy looking for nothing more than another notch on the bedpost. Failed marriages, beautiful girlfriends, living his life extravagantly on page six.'

He slumps against the wall outside her door, hurt by her words but wounded much more deeply because she must have planned this. She let him think that she cared for him, trapped him by making him believe that she wanted to be with him as much as he needs to be with her, left the door open so that he would be sure to hear what she really thinks of him. God, she must hate him. What has he done to deserve this? He pushes himself off the wall, catching sight of the bunch of white and yellow freesias in his hand, chosen so carefully because he knows she likes subtle scents rather than overpowering ones. Bright, happy spring blooms, as fresh as the step they are – were – about to take together. He turns back to drop them outside her door and he can't miss her raised voice.

'Yes, Josh, I know his reputation. But that's all it is. A reputation. I'm one of the few people lucky enough to know that that isn't the man. The real Richard Castle is kind and thoughtful and funny and sweet. He's always – _always_ – there when I need him, so don't you dare tell me that I shouldn't trust him. You know, I lied when I said I haven't cheated on you. We haven't slept together – yet. But in my head – in my heart – I've known that he's who I want to be with. I really want you to leave now. No! Let go of me...'

Castle hears the sound of glass shattering and scraping furniture and he pushes the door wide, runs in to see Kate struggling to free herself from Josh's embrace, his mouth pressed to hers as she strains to twist her face away.

* * *

One moment she was wrestling to escape from his arms and the next she's falling back, liberated from his unwanted attentions. It takes her a moment to absorb what's happened, to take in that Castle is dragging Josh towards the door by the back of his collar. Josh must have been as surprised as she was by Castle's arrival and he's completely off-balance, swinging his arms above his head and batting ineffectually in Castle's direction. Castle, staggering backwards to the doorway, catches his foot on a chair and stumbles and Josh takes his opportunity to grab hold of his shirt and twist himself round. They are both big men, capable of causing the other serious injury, and Kate flings herself across the room.

They are a jumble of pushing and shoving but she knows that it's probably going to escalate into something much worse if she doesn't stop them. She doesn't want to be responsible for either of them getting hurt and she's seen the surprising amount of pain that Castle can inflict in her defence.

'No!' she cries, as she sees Josh pull his fist back and she imagines the damage that will cause to Castle's face. Josh's hands are the tools of his trade. If he hits Castle he'll be hurting both of them and she does the one thing she's been telling rookies not to do for years. She get's herself in the middle of a fight.

It's like it's happening in slow motion. Castle's eyes open wide and he releases his grip on Josh's jacket.

'No, Kate!' he shouts.

She spins to face Josh and sees his knuckles aiming straight for her face.

* * *

**A/N Your reviews cheer me up in this dreary January. I hope I can offer you some pleasure in return with this story. Thank heavens Castle is back to bring us all some sunshine. xx**


	10. Chapter 10

**The Doctor**

They'd bonded over a motorbike. Literally. Josh had spotted Kate's Softail outside a bookstore and had been admiring it when she appeared in her leathers, new mystery novel in hand, ready to mount her machine and drive off. She'd been more than a little sceptical about what he was really interested in, but then he'd shown her his 1200 Custom parked across the street and she'd agreed to a coffee. She was intelligent, funny, independent and gorgeous, and although he had the feeling that she was rebounding from a relationship, he was more than happy to be the guy that she'd bounced into.

They had fun but he had no doubt that she was keeping one foot out the door and that suited him. His job was the most important thing in his life and he'd had more than his share of clingy, demanding women. It wasn't long before he thought that Castle must have been the guy, and that he'd dumped her for his ex-wife. She talked about him way too much for a co-worker, speculating frequently about what on earth he could be thinking, dating his publisher again. But when he'd eventually asked her if she'd been dating Castle before him, she'd said that was ridiculous and she'd thrown her head back and laughed.

But he was no fool. He'd sensed Castle was a threat from the beginning and when he'd split from Gina, he'd had to listen to Kate voice her concern about him, worrying that he'd been hurt by the break-up. He was soon sick to death of hearing about Castle's exploits, the good and the bad. Too often he saw a softening of her expression when she was sharing yet another anecdote about him. And woe betide him if he agreed with her when she complained about Castle, or if he commented in a less than complimentary way about something she told him. It seemed it was fine for her to criticise the writer but she was like a tiger defending her young if anyone else did. He sometimes felt like he was playing gooseberry even though he hardly ever saw more than a fleeting glimpse of the man. He strongly suspected that Kate was trying to keep them apart. On the rare occasions he did see them together, it was impossible not to see the spark between them.

Recently, she'd been talking about him less and less but rather than finding that reassuring, he'd worried it had been a sign that she was struggling not to give in to the attraction she so obviously felt for her writer. Josh frequently wished that Castle would relocate to England or Australia or anywhere far away, because in his most honest moments, he always knew that there was something between them, even if they hadn't acknowledged it themselves.

He'd been annoyed when Kate had said she didn't want him to go back to Haiti but then he'd decided that it was probably a very good thing. He'd fallen hard for her and if he needed to make sacrifices to keep her, he was willing to do it. It had been a blow not just to his ego when she'd turfed him out of her bed. And when she'd dumped him, he'd known that Castle was behind it, whatever she might claim. He'd lashed out at her and said some hurtful things that he really regretted and he'd come here tonight to genuinely apologise. He was sure that if she'd just give them a chance, they could make this work.

* * *

Whatever he's suspected, however much he believes that she was attracted to Castle, hearing her admit it has sent him over the edge. He knows that he shouldn't have tried to kiss her in anger but he has no regrets about hitting out at Castle. If only Kate had stayed out of it.

He's horrified to see her appear in front of his clenched fist. He tries to pull his punch, closing his eyes just before the moment of contact, but he feels his fist connect and, off-balance, he sprawls forward, landing in a graceless heap.

'Kate,' he shouts, flipping over but all he can see is Castle's legs. He pushes himself up just as the writer jumps over him and Castle's trailing foot connects with his ribs.

'Oow!'

He doubles up, aware that Castle has stumbled but remained on his feet. When he lifts his head again, he sees Castle bending over the easy chair.

'Oh my God, Kate!' Castle cries and Josh's stomach lurches.

He hauls himself to his feet, rubbing his ribs. Castle is blocking his view and he takes a couple of steps so he can see around him. She's slumped in the chair face down, one leg bent underneath her, her knee almost touching her chin, the other foot is hooked over the chair back. Her robe has fallen forward and her suspender belt and purple thong are on full show. He looks away, appalled to think that he's done this, the sight of her clothing in such disarray adding to the feeling that he has violated her. He lets out a sigh of relief when he hears her muffled voice. At least she conscious.

'S'okay, Castle. I'm fine.' She pushes herself up but can only lift her head and shoulders. 'A little help, please.'

Castle rearranges her robe to cover her and then takes a firm but gentle grip of her shoulder before freeing her foot from the chair back with his other hand and swivelling her round to a sitting position. The writer gently lowers the leg that had been crushed under her so both feet are on the floor. She's lost a shoe in the melee and he carefully removes the other and places it on the floor beside the chair, finally smoothing down the front of her robe.

'You're bleeding,' Castle says, and Josh hesitantly raises his eyes from her hands to see how much damage he has done to her beautiful face, but all he can see is a cut on her temple.

Castle kneels in front of her, tugging the blue silk handkerchief from his breast pocket to gently stem the trickle of blood that's seeping towards her right eyebrow.

'It's nothing,' she says still sorting out her robe.

She looks up at Castle and her face transforms in an instant from irritated to worried.

'Oh, Rick. Your face!' she exclaims.

Her fingers trace lightly over the ruddy mark on his jaw and he stills them with his own. 'It's fine. Are you hurt anywhere else?'

He scans her for any other visible evidence of injury and she shakes her head.

'I'm going to get something to clean that up. You sit still for a moment.'

He turns his head to kiss her palm and then places her hand over the hankie he's holding to her temple. As he stands, he brushes his lips lightly over her forehead on his way to the kitchen.

Neither of them pays any attention to Josh who has witnessed their exchange with a sinking heart. If he needed any more proof that Kate was in love with the writer, he's just had it.

With Castle occupied in the kitchen, he steps in to take his place, bending down in front of Kate but she recoils, flattening herself against the chair back, and he holds up both hands in surrender.

'I'm not going to hurt you. Just let me check that.'

'Hey. Leave her alone,' Castle snaps, lifting his head from the cupboard beneath the washbasin.

'You may have forgotten, but I am a doctor. Let me check she's not concussed.'

'It's only a scratch,' Kate says.

'Please, Kate. It's the least I can do.'

She nods, but she eyes him warily as he lifts her chin, turns her head and takes the hankie from her to look at the wound. Castle is watching intently and Josh can't miss her smile of reassurance.

'The first aid kit is in the draw beside the hob,' she says.

'Have you got a headache?' Josh asks.

'No, I'm fine,' she insists.

'I don't understand. Where did I hit you?' He checks her head for any other sign of impact.

Kate looks as puzzled as he is. 'I don't think you did. I closed my eyes and braced myself but then I was hurled sideways and fell over the chair. I think I hit my head on the coffee table.'

Castle joins them, balancing on the edge of the sofa, the open first aid box in his hand, and they both look to him for an explanation.

'I'm so sorry about your head, Kate. I pushed you out of the way.'

She shakes her head and smiles at him.

'Thank you.' Her smile fades as she strokes his jaw again. 'So Josh hit you instead of me.'

'Which is what I was intending to do in the first place,' Josh says, and the other two both glare at him.

He scrutinises the contents of the first aid kit, avoiding having to watch even more evidence that Kate is so clearly in Castle's corner. He takes out an antiseptic wipe and Kate hisses as he wipes it across the cut and she reaches her hand out to Castle who gives it a reassuring squeeze.

'It's not deep. Heads bleed a lot but it doesn't need stitches. Are there any steri-strips in there?' he asks Castle.

He rummages around with one hand, the other maintaining it's hold on Kate's, and pulls out a thin cardboard box.

'Here.'

'Good.'

Josh works quickly and deftly, ensuring that the edges of the cut are perfectly aligned before he seals the wound.

'There. Leave them on for a few days. You won't have a scar.'

He sits back on his heels and looks up at Castle. 'Want me to check your jaw?'

'I think you've done enough.'

Josh shrugs and gets to his feet. 'I'm sorry that you got hurt because of me, Kate. I acted like a jerk. My only excuse is that I love you and I think you're making a big mistake.'

'Goodbye, Josh,' is all she says and he leaves, without a backward glance, pulling the door closed behind him. He has lost but then deep down he always knew that he wasn't really in the game.

**A/N A different perspective. Don't worry - it's a one off - but I'd love to know what you think. I felt I needed to give Josh some closure. Thank you so much for your kind words about this story. I'm itching to write a filler/follow-up to Under the Fire but I'm going to wait until I've finished this.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N**

**Happy Castle Monday! **

**Some of you enjoyed Josh's perspective and a few didn't. No surprise there, but I am very grateful to all of you who took the time to let me know your opinion. So, thank you, as always, for the reviews and PMs. **

**With any POV, there is always an element of the unreliable narrator (even if it's a third person POV), and it's worth bearing in mind that Kate and Rick's reactions in the last chapter were as Josh interpreted them. I hope that this chapter, without covering all the same ground again, gives you more insight into K&R's feelings about the incident.**

* * *

**First Date?**

The door slams and Castle squeezes Kate's hand, bringing her attention back to him. He gets a tired smile in return.

'Are you sure you're okay?' he asks.

'Fine. Honestly. It's just a scratch. But your poor jaw.'

He stands and doesn't notice her reach for his face or see her hand drop back to her lap, her eyes full of trepidation.

'Great. I just need to_ I won't be long.'

'No! Please, Rick. Don't.'

He's on his feet and half way to the door but the distress in her voice pulls him up and he turns to face her, all the while continuing to edge backwards to the door.

'I just want a word with him.'

She gets up, shaking her head. 'No you don't. Please. It's not worth it.'

'Kate he was forcing you to…'

'He kissed me. That's all. And I know him well enough to know that he was ashamed afterwards.'

Hearing her declare how well she knows the doctor delivers a stab of jealously to his gut. It's ridiculous and unwarranted but it hardens his resolve to confront him.

'I'm just going to help him with that.'

His hand is on the doorknob when she crosses her arms and glares at him.

'Seriously. Our first date is going to be spent in the emergency room or with me bailing you out of jail because you're going to chase after my ex and get into a fight.'

'If he'd punched you…'

'It would have been my own fault. I know better than to get myself into the middle of a fight.'

'But…'

In hardly more than the blink of an eye, she transforms from irritated Beckett into seductive Kate, hand on hip, the fore-finger of the other massaging her bottom lip, she drops her chin and looks up at him through her long lashes.

'And if you just come back here, I'll tell you why I did it. First date, Castle, and you can't think of anything better to do than _hit _someone? '

There's a chopstick protruding from her hair, half of her waves hanging loose, and he doubts that was the look she was aiming for. Her lipstick is smudged and there's a black smear of mascara under her left eye. There's still a hint of dried blood on her temple and, despite the steri-strips, the wound on her head looks angry and the skin around it is beginning to discolour. She's maybe six inches shorter than him in her stocking feet and she looks sexy, vulnerable and completely adorable. It takes all of his willpower not to grab her and kiss her senseless but he's got unfinished business with Dr Motorcycle Boy.

He'd reacted instinctively when she'd got herself in the firing line of Josh's fist, grabbing her shoulder and throwing her sideways, and he hadn't even been aware of where she'd ended up as his head had snapped back under the force of the punch. Josh had staggered past him, carried by his own momentum, ending up on the floor at his feet, and it was only then that he realised that he'd thrown Kate right over the back of the chair. The guilt he'd felt when he saw that she'd hurt her head on the table was immense and that was the only reason that he'd allowed Josh to do his good doctor bit. He needed to be sure that Kate was really okay and the alternative would have been a trip to ER, and that was one battle he was sure to lose with his detective. Watching Josh touch her had been agonising but to give him his due, he had been businesslike and professional. Castle had to keep reminding himself that it was the right thing to do for Kate's sake even though he was itching to teach the doctor that forcing yourself on a lady was not acceptable ever, but particularly when the lady was Katherine Beckett.

Now his jaw is throbbing and he's eager to return the favour, for his own sake but mostly for Kate's. He'll need to hurry if he's going to catch him before he rides off into the night and, he hopes, out of their lives forever but she's looking at him like that and when she reaches out her hand, he's lost. He's in front of her in three strides, entangles his hand with hers and draws her to him, trapping their intertwined fingers between them as he wraps her up in his other arm. He feels her sigh as she relaxes into him and he inhales her, a sweet and spicy aroma that he can't identify except as the perfect smell of Kate.

'So, you were going to tell me what made you jump into a fight.'

She leans back against his arm to look up at him and her wide smile wavers as she grazes her fingertips over the deepening red stain on his jaw. 'After I've got some ice for that.'

He lets her lead him to the kitchen, avoiding the overturned stool he hadn't even noticed.

'Stop!'

He pulls her back before she can stand on the broken glass strewn over the floor. 'Where's your broom?'

'Cupboard by the door.'

* * *

He lets go of her hand, rights the stool and actually lifts her on to it. Kate is both indignant and a more than a little turned on by Castle man-handling her.

'Don't want you getting glass in your feet,' he explains and she has to smile and shake her head at him because it's chivalrous and sweet, even though they both know that she could have safely gone back the way she'd come.

She watches as he cleans up around her and is impressed by his thoroughness. Fatherhood has trained him well. It must have been really hard for him to let Josh look after her cut – she wasn't too thrilled herself – and she understands his desire to beat the crap out of him, but it's time to move on. She is sure that Josh is embarrassed and contrite, and she's equally sure that they've seen the last of him. He'll probably be on the first plane to Haiti and there'll be no shortage of women willing to offer him solace.

She'd shied away from Josh's touch, not because she feared him but because she didn't ever want his hands on her again. Then she'd seen the shame in his eyes and heard the plea in his voice and she'd decided that it was a better end to let him makes amends the best way he could. He behaved badly tonight but he's not a bad man and she still feels a pang of guilt about dumping him so soon after persuading him not to go to Haiti. After all, it's not his fault that she's in love with someone else. She feels a flutter of anticipation as she admits that to herself. Josh, Tom, Will, Gina, the bevy of beautiful women that seemed to be always available to Castle – they are all out of the picture, and her partner is here, tidying up her apartment as if nothing could give him greater pleasure. She grins at that thought. Actually, she can imagine some other things that he might enjoy more.

'What?' he says, catching her smile.

'I should help.'

She starts to slide to the floor but he shakes an admonishing figure at her.

'Uh, uh. Wait.'

He retrieves her shoes and kneels at her feet. 'In case I missed any splinters.'

'Really? That's the only reason?' she says, disbelievingly, as he takes his time to lift her right foot and rest it on his knee.

He slides her shoe on, letting his fingers snake up from her ankle over the swell of her calf, and he repeats the ritual with her left leg. Putting clothes _on_ has never been so erotic.

She drops to the floor, straightening her robe, expecting him to continue what he's started but he trots across the room and back again, this time clutching a battered bunch of freesias. Some of the flowers are completely crushed and others dangle from broken stems.

'I brought you flowers,' he declares and she laughs.

'Thank you. I love them. I really do.'

She kisses his cheek and then spins him round.

'My turn. You sit there.'

He perches on the stool and watches as she dumps the hulking bouquet of lilies on to the counter and takes a delicate little crystal vase out of a cupboard. She unwraps the freesias and carefully picks through them, selecting the few undamaged stems and discarding those that are past saving. The resulting display is tiny but beautiful and she inhales the exquisite aroma that's so much more to her taste that the overpowering perfume of the lilies. Aware that his eyes are following her every move, she busies herself wrapping ice in a towel.

He flinches as she holds it against his swollen jaw and she strokes his other cheek with back of her fingers.

'This is why I ended up between the two of you. I didn't want you to get hurt.'

'By putting yourself in the way of his fist? You think I wanted _you_ to get hurt?'

She shakes her head. 'I didn't think it would come to that. I'm a cop. I'm trained to defend myself but I didn't see that punch coming until it was too late.'

'I'm sorry about your head.' His fingers caress her forehead, carefully avoiding the cut.

'Hey, that fist would have done a lot more damage. Thank you.'

She removes the ice to brush her lips lightly over his jaw and she feels his breath hitch. When she looks up at him, his eyes are closed and his lips parted and she is so tempted to kiss him but she doesn't. It's their first date. The kiss – the kisses – they can come later. Instead she puts the ice into his hand and he opens his eyes in surprise.

'Keep that on your jaw. I'm going to tidy myself up.'

'You still want to go out?' he asks and she pauses at her bedroom door to look back at him.

'I'm not letting you out of our date that easily, Castle. I was promised dinner and I want dinner.'

* * *

Castle has made himself at home on her couch, reading an article about Tibet in a travel magazine he'd found on her bookshelves, but he drops it at the sight of her. She's stunning in a dark green oriental style dress that manages to be elegant and sexy at the same time. She always wears pants to the precinct and he rarely gets to see her breathtakingly long legs and he takes time to enjoy the sight, his eyes devouring her from those ludicrously high heels all the way up to her stunning face. She looks unsure and a little embarrassed by his blatant admiration and a shy smile flutters around her lips.

'Wow!'

She giggles and he gets up, taking the short black velvet coat from over her arm and holding it out for her. She has rearranged her hair and he notes there are now two chopsticks keeping it in place. He can't resist brushing his lips over the nape of her neck as he helps her on with her coat. She shudders against him and he grins. He really is going out with Beckett. On a date. Their first.

'Shall we, Miss Beckett?' He holds out his arm and she slips hers through, and the touch of her fingers on his forearm is electric.

'Oh, wait,' she says, letting go of him and rushing back to the kitchen.

She grabs Josh's bouquet and spins back to join him, answering the quirk of his eyebrow with an equally quizzical flick of her own. He opens the door and she passes through, surprising him again when she rings her neighbour's doorbell. They wait in silence for about a minute and then the door is opened just a crack and pushed to again. A chain rattles and this time the door is opened wide by a tiny lady who Castle guesses must be at least eighty-five.

'Katherine, my dear, how are you?'

'I'm great, Mrs Herman. How are you?' Kate says, bending down to kiss the woman's wizened cheek.

'Pretty good after the life I've led, dear.'

'I wondered if you'd like these. Someone gave them to me but I've got all the flowers I need.'

Castle gazes at her, wondering if she has any idea how good those words make him feel and the glance she steals at him makes him realise that she probably does.

'Oh, so kind but no thank you, dear. Lilies are poisonous for cats. I'm so sorry.'

'That's fine. I don't like them myself.'

'Did you give them to Katherine?' she accuses Castle.

'Er, no. I… er… I brought freesias.'

She smiles at him. 'Ah, freesias are my favourite. Is this your young man, Katherine?'

Kate grins at him, biting her lip. 'Yes, Mrs Herman. He's my young man.'

'Well, you'd better marry him soon. He's a keeper if he brings freesias. Off you go and have a good time now. I recommend plenty of hanky panky. It keeps you young.'

She closes the door and they grin at each other.

'Let's go, Castle.'

He calls the elevator and Kate detours across the hall to push the lilies down the rubbish chute. Castle envies her the satisfying punch she delivers to force them through the hole.

'We'll just need to stop by the loft so I can change my shirt. Mother and Alexis will be thrilled to see you,' he says.

'What?' she snaps, as the elevator doors slide open.


End file.
